Life After Death
by T'Ashalik
Summary: A developing story of Sarek's life after Amanda's death in 2293. I realize it ignores a person we've met already, but its just another possibility. "Young minds, fresh ideas..." Please review! I really appreciate your feedback. More coming soon - Promise!
1. Investigations and Curiosity

NEW: "Life After Death"

By: T'Ashalik

Sa/Emma, (Am)

Rating: PG13

Summary: TOS; this is a developing story of life for Sarek after Amanda's death in 2293.

Disclaimer: I am making no money off this…it's a shame, really.

Chapter 1

*** January, 2295 ***

Sarek's proposal for the development of a Federation-wide cultural exchange initiative was well received by the Vulcan High Council. The ultimate goal was a continuous revision of awareness and understanding of cultural expressions and behavioral expectations. After all, evaluation of artistic endeavors strongly reflected the emotional health of a culture.

As he evaluated the tasks necessary to implement the first phase, all requirements could be easily met with the exception of one: finding the right person to spearhead the program. This person would have to be highly skilled in their field; they would need to have a high level of linguistic proficiency; they would need to have a consistent and demonstrative instructional reputation; and they must be able to work with many different cultures well.

Certainly this was not too much to ask, or so he thought.

He instructed Soran to draft a job description and distribute the call for applications to colleges and universities, and also to the Ministry of Xenocultural Affairs at the main Federation headquarters. Within six hours they had received over three hundred applications

Over the following two weeks, he spent many hours reading through them and quickly discovered many people who were partially qualified; however, the areas in which their skills were lacking rendered them profoundly inappropriate.

After reviewing them all, he had four who met the basic requirements. This was such a new concept that whomever he selected for the job would have to evolve into the position. However, he was not certain any of them were the right person for the job. He was deep in thought when Soran buzzed his comm-unit.

"Ambassador, you have a call from a Dr. Jarvis. He is a music professor from the Eastman School. He wishes to speak with you regarding the directorship."

"Put him through, Soran," Sarek answered.

An older man appeared on the view screen, with several colleagues in the background.

"Hello, Dr. Jarvis. How may I be of service?"

"Good evening, Ambassador. I was wondering if you are still accepting applications for the exchange initiative?"

"No. The application deadline passed at five o'clock this evening."

"I see. Is there any chance I could ask you to consider one more application? We have a current doctoral student who would be an ideal candidate. I mean, if your posting was listed in the dictionary, Emma's photo would be under it," he said. The people in the background nodded enthusiastically.

Sarek looked at him quietly.

"What I mean, sir, is that she is the brightest student we have ever had – unnervingly intelligent. I would hate to see her not be considered because she was traveling off world on a concert tour. She is based in San Francisco, and while she has not yet completed her doctoral work, she will defend her dissertation in seven weeks time. It's a doubled doctorate, and one focus is already completed," Dr. Jarvis said, looking hopeful.

"What are the focal points of these degrees?"

"Artistic management and xenocultural aesthetics, sir."

Sarek thought carefully. With the poorly qualified individuals he had narrowed the field to, one more could certainly not hurt, but the missing doctorate was a problem. However, seeing eight people wholeheartedly convinced that he needed to at least look at her application, he reasoned that there was no harm in it.

"Dr. Jarvis, please have her file the application within the next eight hours directly to the Vulcan embassy."

If this person was interested, they would have to submit their application no later than 0300 hours. A motivated person would ensure it was done, and someone not appropriate for the position would be late.

"Ambassador, thank you. I think you will find her very well suited for this job. Good night."

He nodded to them and then ended the call. This was certainly turning into a problem. If there were no qualified individuals, the program would not start.

The next morning Soran knocked on his office door and walked in with a substantial folder in his hands.

"Sir, this was delivered at the embassy gates at 0247 hours" He sat down across from Sarek and waited. He'd already read the entire document, and did not believe a word of it.

Sarek opened it and took nearly twenty minutes to read through it. He stopped and thought for a moment. "Soran, contact Dr. Jarvis at the Eastman School, I wish to speak with him immediately."

A few moments later, Dr. Jarvis was waiting on the comm-link.

"Good morning, ambassador," he smiled.

"Dr. Jarvis, I received an application from your student. I," he hesitated for a moment," have some questions that must be answered."

"All right, what are they?"

"Why is Ms. McGregor posted to Starfleet Academy?"

"We accommodate the posting during her doctoral studies because she needs the work. She received a two-year contract to direct the honor guard. They have a drum line, and a brass ensemble, and she teaches a few cadet buglers to play traditional military cadences – music for ceremonies – and they also compete with other military honor guards for what are essentially 'bragging rights'. It's an old Terran military custom, Ambassador."

"What are the origins of this custom?" Sarek asked, intrigued.

"It derives from a more primitive method of communication. Evaluation of a battlefield involving hand-to-hand combat offers a distinct problem: quickly communicating orders effectively over the noise of the fighting. Drummers and buglers would play rhythmic and melodic patterns for differing sets of orders such as flank, retreat, and attack, among others. Technology began to change battleground tactics. Soldiers were equipped with radios, satellite phones, and then communicators.

"The necessity for the musical messaging waned, but the appreciation for their symbolic purpose did not – symbolic remembrance of those lost in battle is highly respected in Terran culture. They would meet in large groups and perform demonstrations for one another at events called 'tattoos', and it became a publicly appreciated event. One of the longest running and most respected is the Edinburgh Tattoo. For at least the past three hundred years, world-wide competitions have been taking place to honor the lines with the greatest accuracy and skill."

"Fascinating. How does she accomplish her studies with you in New York if she is based in San Francisco?"

"Via networked conference, ten hours per week," he answered.

Sarek looked at him thoughtfully. "Dr. Jarvis, I would like to speak with her immediate supervisor at the academy."

"Understood, Ambassador. His name is Jim Thompson. He supervises the division responsible for ceremony and ritual training. I have known him a very long time - we were at the New England Conservatory together in our younger days. If you can hold a moment, I will set up an appointment for you." Dr. Jarvis offered.

"That would be acceptable."

***

That afternoon Sarek and Soran arrived at Starfleet Academy. After receiving clearance at the security gate, they arrived at the visitor's center. As they stepped out of their vehicle, a short, balding, human male walked up to meet them.

"Ambassador Sarek?"

"I am, and this is my aide, Soran."

"I am Jim Thompson. Todd Jarvis told me you requested to speak with me." He smiled at them both. "How can I be of assistance?"

"I am considering a member of your staff for the directorship of the cultural affairs initiative," Sarek stated.

"Emma applied for it, didn't she?"

"Yes," Sarek replied.

"Good for her…she is a most dynamic individual."

"Dr. Thompson, I would speak with you regarding the resume she submitted. It has some… interesting statements in it, and I will verify the accuracy of those with you now."

"Certainly, sir. Why don't we make our way to the parade grounds?"

After they found a comfortable place to sit, they returned to their conversation. Sarek observed a group of cadets marching in a tight formation, while another group stood in a circle playing rhythmic cadences on snare drums. He caught a glimpse of a small group of cadets tuning their horns and preparing to drill.

"Ambassador, I would normally invite you to my office, but Todd told me you had some questions about the honor guard. They will begin rehearsal in a few moments, and I thought it you might be interested to see what they do. Besides, Emma directs the group and it would give you an opportunity to observe her teaching style."

"Logical. Please clarify her awarded degrees," he requested.

"Sure, she earned a bachelor of music from Indiana in voice performance, graduated _magna_. She received an assistantship to Harvard for her graduate studies. She earned two master's degrees there: music theory and composition, and xenomusicology, graduating _summa_ in each."

"What of her linguistic capabilities?" Sarek asked.

"Emma's primary languages are Scots Gaelic and English. She is academically proficient in Latin and German. She also studied Vulcan for six years to prepare for her Ph.D.," he answered. "She gave a research presentation at a conference hosted by Yale three years ago. That is where Todd learned of her research focus.

"He offered her a fellowship to attend Eastman for her Ph.D work. Emma has been translating the poetic works written by Pre-Reform Vulcans. She is making a cross-cultural referential comparison between them and the Terran Nationalistic poets and music composers of the 19th and 20th centuries. The dissertation debate is going to be quite interesting. People are either for or against this one," Dr. Thompson said with poorly masked excitement.

"Why?" Soran asked.

"Because she is the first to perform 'out-worlder' translations for literally _all_ extant works; she has drawn astonishing comparisons in cultural perception and awareness, and it is frustrating the stereotypes held by a lot of people on both worlds."

Sarek regarded him carefully. He was quite familiar with those works. "All of them? There are more than fifteen hundred."

"No offense, but there are fifteen hundred sixty-three, sir," Dr. Thompson said, with fading glee as he watched both right eyebrows rise.

An older Hispanic woman found where they were and worked her way into the stands to join them.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen." She smiled.

Dr. Thompson introduced them. "This is Caroline Gomes. She is the liaison between our offices and the academy. She created the opportunity for Emma to work here. Caroline, this is Ambassador Sarek of Vulcan, and his aide, Soran."

"Peace and long life to each of you." She bowed slightly. "I understand Emma applied for the cultural interchange directorship?"

"Affirmative," Sarek replied.

"Excellent, I am glad she did. She would be very well suited for the job."

"Caro, we were just discussing the translations she's been studying."

"Oh yes, that is some very nice work. She has uncovered extraordinarily similar social responses between Vulcan and Human cultures in periods of tremendous social upheaval. We are quite pleased to have her with us. She is a tremendous asset to the continuance of military pageantry here.

"Please understand our pride in her is not misplaced or undeserved. Evaluations of her cognitive abilities are in the top two percent of known human capability. Her intelligence quotient is one hundred eighty-five, empathy quotient is maxed at two hundred, and spatial-lateral reasoning is off the charts. She also spent six years on Betazed training with their telepathic and empathic counseling staff. Her psi rating is an eight. Most humans with _any_ psi capabilities max around five," Dr. Gomes stated.

"Level eight? What are her capabilities?" asked Sarek.

"She was tested and diagnosed as a broadcast telepath - receptor only, touch telepath, and auditory-visual empath. She reads people very well. It's one reason she can teach just about anyone. Well, there is one group, not so much," she added.

"Who?" Sarek asked, his curiosity eating away at him.

"Tellarites."

"That is understandable," he quipped. Soran looked abruptly at him. Sarek then inquired about her instrumental proficiency.

"This is where it gets interesting. She has a tremendous capacity for learning musical instruments. She began cello and violin at age eight, and French horn at age fifteen. Her undergraduate degree is in vocal performance – she is a contralto – and was required to start piano then. She began percussion as a first year master's student simply because she needed one elective credit to complete her degree plan. She started playing the organ eighteen months ago, and her concert debut on that took place two weeks ago. These are the instruments she teaches or plays professionally," Dr. Thompson said with delight.

"Are we to assume she plays others?" Sarek asked politely.

"Yes, guitar and bass guitar in the folk music genre. Additionally, I have heard rumors about bagpipes, but for some reason she will not give us a straight answer on that. She is from the Isle of Skye, off the west coast of Scotland. There is a very rich folk music heritage there. You should hear her play when it's not important."

"Why?" Soran asked.

"Because it's better than when it really matters," he said with a grin.

"She is listed as a composer. Elaborate," Sarek requested.

"Primarily, she writes instrumental works, art songs and some choral pieces. Oh, she placed third in the 492nd Prix de Rome, and seventh in the 491st. The word on the street right now is that she will be asked to step into the position left open after the death of Shiyoran Ka'alte last month," Dr. Thompson answered.

"She will be named composer laureate to the Federation?" Sarek asked, not believing what he just said. "Is she aware of this?" That would be an asset to the program, for certain.

"Not yet. It seems that the people the selection committee has approached keep deferring to her, and keep in mind those people are anywhere from forty to eighty years her senior," Dr. Thompson stated. "Two of them were her composition mentors."

"Look, I can appreciate your doubt. We have _talked_ a lot about her. Perhaps you can watch and decide for yourself," Dr. Gomes suggested, pointing to the woman jogging onto the parade grounds.

***

Emma came through the gates and trotted up to the center of the field. She blew her whistle once and the cadets assembled in a circle around her. They began to play warm-up exercises and prepare for practice. While they finished their preparations, she strapped on a snare drum harness and began playing the final practice cadences. Emma gave final instructions and they began counting off in Vulcan.

Soran's curiosity got the best of him. "Why are they counting in Vulcan?"

"Since the cardinal base of your numbering system is syllabically divisible by two, it establishes a consistent subdivision pattern for them to start the cadence on," Dr. Thompson answered.

As they listened and watched, Sarek was having difficulty with the capabilities she possessed. "How is it that she has developed such skills in so short a period of time? This level of proficiency in only six years cannot be normal. What were the processes with which she was instructed?" he asked.

"The processes were the standard methods, and she has been guided by the very best instructors available. She burns through material at a rate we have not seen before. She recently went to Finland to study for six months – and came home after four weeks. She returned when their ability to teach her had been exhausted. They did not know what else to do with her," Dr. Gomes replied.

"And _that_ is a problem," Dr. Thompson stated clearly.

"Explain," Sarek requested.

"You need to understand that while she is a marvelous person, and a highly gifted musician, she is an aberration in our society."

Sarek's eyebrows rose at such a derogatory description. On Vulcan, any child with this kind of exceptional ability was cultivated, nurtured, and encouraged to realize their highest potential. He could not understand that she was so unusual no one knew what to do with or for her.

"It would appear that everyone she encounters abandons her at a point of great need in her academic development," he observed, "most illogical."

"I mean no disrespect to her at all, please understand that. It is simply that she is so, how do I say this, so different, that people do not know how to interact with her," he said. "Emma is singularly unique. She needs to be around highly intelligent individuals; in _and_ out of academia. She spends too much time in that office of hers; how else could she have translated all those works in that amount of time?"

"I agree, I have actually had to tell her to go home on several occasions," Dr. Gomes offered. "I also had to insist she leave her work at the office. At one point, I required her to journal about her leisure activities simply so I knew she was doing something to relax and unwind."

"What was her response?" Sarek asked.

"She told me she did not know what to do with herself. She would sit on her sofa and wait for the time to pass so she could come back to work. Out of sheer concern I spoke with her family about it once. They kept her busy and occupied, and had no other children simply because she needed so much attention they did not feel it would be appropriate to have others.

"There is something else – she was reading at age three and writing at age four. The psych profiles always described her as an extremely sensitive, brilliant, and insightful child – a pleasure to speak with, thoughtful and inquisitive. But she had behavioral and socialization problems as a teenager," she finished.

"Of what nature?" Sarek asked.

"She became very frustrated and angry. She had issues with impulse control and self-discipline, and ended up getting into a lot of fights, and had minor problems with the authorities. She dealt with substantial depression and was very withdrawn. She tried to ask for help, but did not know what the problem was. She was diagnosed as mentally ill - one specialist suggested multiple personality disorder as the only possible way to explain 'hearing the thoughts of others'," Dr. Thompson said.

"No one thought to test her esper abilities?" Soran could not believe this oversight.

"No, they didn't. You must understand that so many humans are psi-blind that to be diagnosed, you have to live in a dense population center. Her home is small and very rural," he continued.

"Her father and uncle were working off world with a team responsible for assisting with the admission of Betazed to the Federation in 2273. They happened to have a conversation with a group of counselors there about her situation, and were encouraged to send her to them for intensive, long-term therapy immediately. Once she arrived, they quickly realized her telepathic abilities and began a complete battery of psi testing, and discovered the misdiagnosis of her mental health," Dr. Gomes interjected.

"Who are her father and uncle?" asked Sarek.

"Dr. William McLeod, and Dr. Kenneth McLeod."

Sarek instantly recognized the names - Ken McLeod was a well-known educator and had worked tirelessly to integrate Betazoid teaching philosophies into the Diplomatic Corps' training structure. Will McLeod was a highly respected architectural engineer. They had published several papers about education and the arts on Betazed after it had been admitted into the Federation.

Amanda had been a strong supporter of their research, having written the foreword to the books they coauthored in 2285 and 2293. He remembered her expression 'it's a small galaxy', and agreed. It then occurred to him thatEmma McGregorwas the correspondence language student Amanda had for so many years. It all finally made sense.

***

He reflected to a conversation he'd had with Amanda only two weeks before her death:

"Amanda, I must speak with you regarding our communications invoice," he approached gently. She was always careful with financial matters, and it bothered him to question her spending habits on the rare occasions it was necessary.

"What about it, sweetheart?" She reached her arm out and snaked it around his right leg as he stood next to her, and tickled him behind his knee. She smiled when he leaned in closer.

"Your attempt to distract me will not succeed, _Aduna_. It has been increasing steadily over the past eight months. Is all well with your brother?"

"As far as I know he is fine – but he is not the one I am talking to." She trailed her fingers higher up his thigh, grazing her fingernails along the soft fabric of his trousers.

"May I ask who is requiring this much of you?" he asked. "I would think attending to my wants is both a higher priority and a better use of your time." He smiled at her. He liked the thought of where her hand might end up next.

Her eyes twinkled. "Sarek, it's a language student. I normally would not make a concession like this, but she is exceptionally gifted, and exceptionally poor. The beginning and intermediate courses normally take forty-eight months – she completed them in thirty. We have been working on pre-reform poetic translations ever since."

His eyebrows rose.

"Exactly. Her graduate mentors contacted me and asked to work out an arrangement to correct her errors and guide her as she prepares for her doctoral studies. The school pays for her calls, and we pay for mine. The more I learned about her the less I could say no, and you know how hard it is for me to turn a good student away." She smiled at him. She traced his buttocks and gave them a gentle squeeze. He tried to think of ways to turn himself toward her without being that obvious, and failed.

"You are particularly generous with such students, my wife. How difficult has it been to correct her errors?"

"Virtually painless, as they are essentially non-existent. The only major problem she has is her natural linguistic accent. She is from Scotland – western highlands I believe – and their accent tends to be very heavy. It occludes some vowel pronunciations. She has an interesting tendency to create diphthongs in her vocabulary, and her oral cavity is always too closed. You really should hear her sometime - it's both amusing and quite remarkable. The real shame in all this is that she is not a linguist.

"That notwithstanding, she is one the most intelligent humans I have ever worked with – in fact, I would put her in my top three. Her father and uncle are writing another book about the creative arts on Betazed. They've asked me to write the forward again…"

Such praise was extraordinary, coming from Amanda. She was relentless with her students, often driving them away with her demands on their work ethics and study habits. One young man had quit rather angrily, insisting that the workload was 'interfering with his social agenda'. For one so young to reach that point of competency was no ordinary accomplishment.

As he thought about that conversation, his mind logically went to the activities that followed it – the last time he and Amanda made love. While she finished writing her criticism and instructions for her student, he went to their bedroom and drew a hot bath, adding her favorite salts, and undressed. He turned the bed down and then went to find her.

"_K'diwa_, I must demand your attentions now," he said, taking in her beauty. She sent the message and took his hand.

He kissed her nose and led her down the hall. Once in their bedroom, he smiled at her.

"I confess I deceived you, Amanda. I intended not for you to attend to me this evening," he said softly, undressing her. Then he picked her up in his arms gently and carried her to the waiting bath. He set her in it, sat down behind her, and held her in his arms.

Afterward, she took him into hers and they made love with one another, their thoughts expressing everything they could not say aloud, even in the privacy of their own home. Lying beneath her, Sarek placed his fingers on her temples, their pleasure building, their passion growing, their movements purposed. They took time to share the lifelong love-relationship for what neither of them knew would be the very last time.

***

Sarek's mind rejoined the conversation.

"I think that time on Betazed was the best thing that could have happened to her, honestly. They described her as a 'ship with a faulty navigational sensor, heading dangerously off-course. If you repair the module, the course is corrected'. She has maintained that course effectively for the past twenty-two years," Dr. Thompson said.

Sarek listened very carefully to the things her supervisors were sharing with them. Betazed was known throughout the Federation for both their training and counseling of individuals struggling with esper-related problems. It was clear to him that they were concerned about her emotional health as well as her professional capabilities.

He thought she would fit well into Vulcan society. She had the intelligence, work ethic, and the socialization issues were evidently resolved well enough that they employed her. He suspected that the right environment could present her with a much more satisfying life experience.

"I don't see how she has the energy to do what she does," Dr. Thompson admitted.

"Actually, I do. I think it's because there is nothing else in her life. It's a sad thing to consider, but there is no social outlet for her at all," Dr. Gomes said quietly. "Oh, this should be very interesting, Ambassador. Emma has been studying the rhythmic patterns prevalent in language. This cadence is based on the naturally occurring metric patterns in the introductory Vulcan language courses."

They all listened as the drum line started to play, and Sarek sat completely focused on the cadence written from his native linguistic patterns. He could hear the metric flow of his language expressed in Terran rhythmic terms.

This was exactly the indicator Sarek had been looking for: Vulcan cultural concepts translated into a medium Terrans could understand and appreciate. He turned to Soran and instructed him to place her on the shortlist.

"Listen, she will be presenting a concert tomorrow evening. I can get tickets for you if you would like to attend," Dr. Gomes offered.

"That would be acceptable," Sarek said.

As they were preparing to depart Sarek turned and asked a very direct question. "If she is all that you say she is, would you not prefer she remain on staff here? What would you gain from her departure?" He intently regarded them.

Dr. Thompson spoke after thinking for a moment. "Ambassador Sarek, we gain nothing from her departure. In fact, it would be a great loss, but the issue here is not what is best for us, is it? In this case, the needs of many far outweigh the needs of the few."

Sarek nodded acknowledgement of their understanding of this logical tenet. For all their irrationality, Humans could be profoundly logical at times.

"The issue here is two-fold as I see it. This is about you finding someone very qualified to head your program, which she is. But most importantly, it is about Emma finding the best place for her own professional development and a better quality of personal life. She will not find that here with us," Dr. Gomes said quietly.

They returned for the concert the following evening, finding it refreshing and beautifully done. Sarek found himself much closer to a decision. All he had to do was check references, attend a successful dissertation debate, and interview her. He had already interviewed four of the candidates and found them to either be not suited for the work, or lacking the social skills necessary for the job.

*** March, 2295 ***

Emma McGregor sat in her office at Federation Headquarters feeling only a _little_ too pleased with herself. Not only had she successfully completed the degrees, even better, she had the diplomas in her hands.

It was one of the old university traditions still maintained carefully as it had been for hundreds of years: parchment, 11 x 17, hand-written calligraphy, and in Latin. It was a double-doctorate in Artistic Management and Xenocultural Aesthetics. She had been ignoring the com-unit until it notified her of an urgent incoming message from Soran, an ambassadorial aide at the Vulcan Embassy.

Doctor McGregor,

You are requested to meet with Ambassador Sarek at 1445 hours this afternoon. Please confirm your availability upon receipt of this message.

Soran

Executive Ambassadorial Aide

She read it, blinked, and then reread it, stunned that this had actually happened. Two months earlier, her dissertation supervisor tipped her off about an opening as "Artistic Liaison and Academic Director" to spearhead the new Federation Cultural Interchange Directive. He felt it would be a significant career step and an interesting social transition.

She laughed out loud when she read the description, but at the urging of her mentor applied anyway. She was more or less qualified for the job, but at thirty-eight years old, she thought she might be too young and inexperienced to be considered. After submitting her application to the gate of the embassy in the wee hours of the morning, she did not give it a second thought.

Two days ago she successfully defended her dissertation. A marvelous conversation had taken place regarding her comparative conclusions drawn from examining the works of Vulcan Pre-reform poets and composers and the Nationalist poets and composers of Earth's 19th and 20th centuries. As was tradition, the event was open to the public, and she had been pleasantly surprised to see nearly a third of the audience was Vulcan.

Upon electronic confirmation of her degree, she sent a message to Soran requesting that he update her application. Exactly thirteen minutes later, she was asked to meet with the ambassador. She dressed in a soft, ecru angora sweater, her clan's tartan plaid skirt, and began to assemble the necessary possessions.

Although she knew of Ambassador Sarek, she had not met him before, and had heard from various people that he was a formidable, respected diplomat and had an intimidating presence. One had suggested a CPU with feet and a fabulous wardrobe. Another described him as having the warmth of a snow pea. Her office mate said that any debate involving Tellarites meant he would rather be drawn and quartered than lose to them.

She took a deep breath, picked up her briefcase, and headed for the Vulcan embassy. After she checked in at the front gate, Soran came to meet her. He escorted her down a hallway leading away from the public areas on the first floor. Emma noted how, although the embassy was Spartan and austere, it had lovely art on the walls. She recognized a few works by prominent Vulcan artists, one Andorian, and several Terrans. She paused for a moment in front of one of them.

"Is everything satisfactory?" Soran asked.

"I was just looking at 'Guernica'– it is an interesting choice, and a marvelous acquisition."

"Indeed. Picasso was an interesting Terran," he replied. He would have to mention her awareness of the painting to the ambassador.

They approached the end of the hall and Soran opened the door for her. Once inside what was evidently his office area, he asked her to wait, entering the adjacent room. At precisely 1445 hours, he reappeared and asked her to come in.

"Ambassador Sarek, Dr. Emma McGregor."

She saw a tall, lean man with salt and pepper gray hair and an intensely scrutinizing gaze stand behind the desk. His robes were a beautiful shade of brown, trimmed in black and had what she estimated to be his clan name embroidered in gold down his front lapel.

She recognized him as one of the Vulcans that attended the defense of her dissertation two days earlier. The dialogue they had revealed an opportunity for cultural exchange between their worlds that had not been explored.

"Dr. McGregor, thank you for taking time to speak with me today." He raised his hand and offered the _ta'al_.

"Your presence honors me, _kevet-dutar,_" she replied, saluting him.

He gestured toward the chair in front of his desk. "Would you care for a cup of tea?"

"Yes, please."

She looked directly at him and waited quietly as he handed her the tea, studying her with intensely hazel eyes. Such lovely eyes, she thought to herself.

She had an interesting natural hair color, and it fascinated him. He had seen red hair on humans before, but the intense orange color was unusual. Cut short, it had gently sloping sideburns and it was streaked with premature silver and white.

While the silence was not worrisome, it was mildly amusing. She was determined not to lose _this_ staring contest. His right eyebrow rose slightly.

"I have observed that humans prefer to avoid prolonged eye contact, as it can be perceived as confrontational. Is this not accurate?"

"It is, for the most part."

"Am I to understand that you do not perceive it in that manner?" Sarek asked curiously.

"Not in this particular context, no." She smiled.

"I fail to see the humor in this."

"My apologies, ambassador. It's just that, for a moment, it reminded me of a humorous preoccupation that many humans participate in. It is called a 'staring contest'." She wondered if she should kiss the job good bye.

"I do not understand the purpose of intentionally prolonging eye contact with another for the sake of humor. What social value does this behavior serve?" He sincerely did not get it.

"Well, it is a simple matter of who will look away or blink first. They lose." Yep, the job was history. She might as well enjoy the conversation while it lasted. She couldn't stop looking at his eyebrows.

"Ah, it establishes precedence of dominance in future interactions between those individuals," he postulated.

"No, it is simply for amusement. It's not logical, but it is what it is." She wanted to play with his ears, but decided against it, lest she be charged with assault.

"Indeed." He regarded her carefully, remembering moments when Amanda would tease him about missing the importance of fun. An odd surge of grief for his beloved began to rise within him; the corner of his mouth tugged slightly. He allowed himself to place the thought aside for a more appropriate moment in his evening meditation. Two years had passed since Amanda died, and even though he had learned to adjust his daily routines, life had not been the same.

Once, Amanda suggested that he did not know what he had gotten himself into when he married her. At the time, he did not understand, believing he had carefully evaluated the variables when he made that decision. Now, he saw her observation in its full scope, and agreed with her. He never realized how integral a part of his life she had become. Adjusting to solitude was a daily challenge.

"I offer my congratulations regarding receipt of your doctoral degrees."

"Thank you." She had not been tossed out on her ear - at least not yet.

"I wish to continue our conversation from your dissertation defense."

"Certainly." What was that remarkably pleasant smell? She tried to place it in her mind, but was failing.

Pay attention Emma, for crying out loud, she chastised herself.

"I believe there to be great value in consistently revising awareness and understanding between Terran and Vulcan cultures. Provided the resources and creative authority were unrestricted, how would you choose to integrate aesthetic expression into developing cultural awareness and understanding for one another?" Sarek asked.

"The primary conclusions I have drawn from my cultural comparisons show that although our two species have developed in substantially different ways, we have very direct similarities in the way we express ourselves artistically. Let's be honest for a moment – both our civilizations deal heavily with emotion, albeit through highly contrasting philosophies." She dangled that out there.

"I agree."

"Careful evaluation of music written by both cultures during times of extraordinary social revolution reveals cultural elements that we share. I think it wise to study those similarities and present them to each other. I mean genuinely learn how to present them to one another in terms we understand; and it does not require either culture to deny the manner in which we choose to conduct ourselves now. It will offer unique perspectives and awareness, and through awareness comes the opportunity to change."

Sarek listened carefully, thinking of the benefit of education versus the detriment of secrecy. Not everything needed a shroud of mystery.

"It would be an interesting experiment to educate Vulcans in Terran musical practices and then encourage those students to express themselves creatively to Terran audiences. I would encourage musical studies that include learning to sing or play an instrument, studying theory and harmony, composing, and performance practices.

"My reasoning is that those processes are highly logical and structured, and represent one of the very strong correlations between us. If that were successful, the obverse experiment should be conducted on Vulcan," Emma finished.

He sat quietly, thinking about the idea. "How would this initial experiment be structured?"

"That would happen in two phases: first would be a private lesson for each participant and a group lesson, both an hour long, once per week. Secondly the group would join the federation music ensembles at the ministry when they are proficient. That is where their creative contributions would be developed into performance projects."

"What musical projects would be most beneficial?"

"We generally learn about important compositional figures in Terran history, and focus on learning their most predominant repertoire. I have some ideas for this summer however. The exchange should be unilateral for all of the participants, and I am developing opportunities for the students to introduce their creative cultural elements. The end goal of this first phase should be creative composition by the students themselves."

Sarek noticed her empty teacup and poured more for her.

"Thank you. Ambassador, it is well known that studying artistic creation during periods of political strife on Earth can give a very clear glimpse into the emotional health of the culture in question. The artistic community is the veritable 'canary in the coal mine' for social stability, or instability. My research indicates striking similarities within the Pre-Reform artistic community, as well as the current community on Vulcan."

"Is this unique to only our two worlds? Is there any possibility of this concept becoming more inclusive of other species?" he asked. He thought there was much more to be derived from this project over the long term than just an exchange of musical ideas.

"Actually," she hesitated, "I wondered the same thing. I began preliminary research in communication methods recently. What I have found from this initial investigation is startling. There are two main concepts. The first is this artistic-social behavior pattern is strongly present in nearly all Federation member planets." She watched him intently.

"Which planets do not show this pattern?" His curiosity was piqued.

"The only ones that do not are cultures for whom the primary interpersonal communication is via broadcast telepathy. Simply put, if they produce audible communication, this 'social commentary' concept is present to a very strong degree."

"All of them?"

"Yes sir, all of them. The long-term implications for the Federation Cultural Interchange Directive are not only to promote cultural awareness or understanding of behavior. Musical education is merely the beginning, not the end itself. The program has the potential to act as a diagnostic tool for socio-political issues. The benefits to the Diplomatic Corps are astronomical."

"What would you estimate the degree of accuracy to be in predictions of instability?"

"That is a difficult question to answer. I estimate an accuracy of between seventy and eighty-five percent, all things considered – too low to be an absolute, but high enough to act as an early warning system, of sorts," she responded.

"What of the second concept?"

"This is equally fascinating to me. Of all planets utilizing audible communication, each language has very specific and defined rhythmic patterns that are exactly mirrored in their music styles. Not only that, but the inflective behavior of the languages derive from naturally occurring ambient sounds in the indigenous environment. The meter of the languages is identical to the meter of their musical forms. The possibilities for improving linguistic pedagogy are mind-boggling."

"Dr. McGregor, how would you accommodate the time necessary for this addition to your schedule?"

"Well, to be honest, I have been working on my double Ph.D's for two years now. Since they're completed, I have no demands upon my time, except for the percussion and brass courses I teach at Starfleet Academy," she answered. "The contract for those classes ends as of June 1st this year." Maybe this job was not kaput after all.

"What cultural factors would you prefer to be brought by the Vulcan students?"

"I would like to focus on two factors. One being modes of acceptable artistic expression within current Vulcan culture, and two being a thorough exploration of Surak's teachings and the change they brought upon the face of the planet. A project on those two issues alone would require at minimum twelve months to plan, create and set for performance. It's IDIC in its clearest form."

He looked at her intently. He had already read all of her translations of the Pre-reform poetic works. They showed an interesting outside perspective on the Vulcan culture. Her pursuit of the language, means of expression, mastery of traditional behaviors, and acceptable social interactions had thus far been quite satisfactory.

"Also, I would require an office here at the embassy simply to house the materials and to teach. My time is flexible and would be at the student's convenience."

They certainly had the room to accommodate her office needs.

"I do have a personal request, actually." Here is where we lose the job…start making conditions on their territory, their time, and their credits. She chuckled inwardly at that thought.

"What is it?" He was relieved to see she was not afraid to communicate in a sincere and genuine fashion; most humans did not know how to act when around Vulcans. She was completely at ease, just as her character references said she would be.

"I would ask to be able to compose and rehearse personal projects here in my off hours. Should you choose to offer this job to me, I must surrender my posting at the Academy at the end of the term, and along with that is access to a grand piano and rehearsal space."

"That would be acceptable." He thought through his schedule and wondered if he could afford the time for historical conversations with her.

He had enough information to make his decision. His main concern had been to determine if she was a human that could function in a healthy and appropriate manner within the embassy. Now was the matter of housing. "Are your living quarters near the embassy?" asked Sarek.

"Well, no actually, but my lease expires next week and finding housing in this part of the Bay Area will be easy enough."

"Dr. McGregor, it is my intention to offer you this position. Should you choose to accept, you would become an employee of our government and your housing requirements would be met within the embassy grounds, should you so desire. There would be a requirement to meet certain cultural obligations such as dietary restrictions, privacy observation, and matters of security.

"Negotiations for compensation will begin with a monthly salary of 4,500 credits. I will provide you with the office and space for instruction and rehearsal that you require. Is there any other issue that must be addressed to assist in your decision?"

This time it was he who initiated the staring contest. Several seconds passed and he became aware of her soft, dark green eyes beginning to tear. As she did not appear to be distressed, he broke eye contact to ask her if she was all right. She smiled and pulled a tissue from her coat pocket and he immediately realized she had tricked him into blinking. He did not understand the mild irritation that surfaced with that realization.

She noticed he blinked. I win, she thought. She was not certain, but he almost looked perturbed. "Honestly, sir, if you are willing to provide my housing and board, the salary is too high for the job."

"The salary begins at that level," he said flatly, hoping his frustration with that loss would not betray him.

"I need some time to consider the offer carefully and make certain this is the right choice for everyone concerned." She decided to make him wait.

"Please inform Soran of your decision within seventy-two hours."

"Thank you, I will do so."

With that, she stood, wished him peace and long life, and left. He sat at his desk thinking about the conversation when there was a knock at the door. "Come in, my friend."

Soran walked in and sat in the previously occupied chair.

"She will notify you within seventy-two hours."

"Understood."

*** Three Days Later ***

Emma sat in her tiny apartment listening to her neighbors arguing, and stared at the comm-unit. She had wanted to take the posting the moment he offered it to her, but then thought making him wait a bit would be more advisable…at least the strategy worked with the man who sold her the used flitter parked outside. She dialed Soran and after two ring cycles, his face appeared.

"Yes, Dr. McGregor?" He noted that she had called at precisely 71 hours, 59 minutes.

"Please inform the ambassador I will accept the posting on one final condition."

"That being?"

"I get to bring my cat."

"One moment." He placed the call on hold and knocked on Sarek's office door.

"Come."

"Sir, Dr. McGregor has called and agreed to accept the posting _if_ she may bring her cat." He looked at Sarek, not really believing he had to be the bearer of that message.

"Acceptable."

Soran nodded and informed her of the ambassador's decision. As they discussed the preparations for her transfer to the embassy, he began to see why the ambassador had chosen her during the interview. Of the five candidates, she was the most genuine. He remembered the phrase 'down to Earth', and decided it applied to her.

***

Emma was amazed at how smoothly the transition to the embassy had been. The best part was when three very burly Vulcans arrived to help her move. She had anticipated that the move would take eight or nine hours. It took them two. As she arrived, Soran greeted her at the gates. They walked to the embassy and discussed final issues.

"I understand that humans are social and often visit one another at their homes. That will not be frequently allowable in this setting," he said.

"I can imagine aside from being an enormous security risk, it would be highly disruptive."

"That is correct, Dr. McGregor."

"Please call me Emma."

He nodded in compliance. He wondered if she realized just how important her job was regarding its long term implications for improving the relationship between their species. He then decided he should see how things would unfold.

They stood in the elevator and he explained to her what was on each floor. The first floor was administration, open conferencing for foreign diplomats, the common dining area, and held the ambassadorial offices as well as her workspace. The second floor housed offices within the purview of the Vulcan government, and was off limits. The third floor was where the elevator stopped.

"This floor houses the families who work here. There is one available suite, which I will ask you to evaluate for modification or approval."

They walked into an apartment suite that was larger than any place she had ever lived. It had two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a nicely appointed kitchen, small dining area, a comfortable living space with a firepot, and a private office alcove. She looked it over carefully and informed Soran that there would be no modifications necessary.

They heard the men moving her belongings in and went to supervise. There was a low grumbling coming from the animal carrier and the men had stopped to investigate the source. A white paw jabbed out the front, swiping at them. They looked at it cautiously, backing up as a hiss emanated from within. She apologized to them, explaining that he was harmless and would be more amiable once he had settled in.

She and Soran then returned to the first floor, and walked down the same hall she had traveled for her interview. Moving past the ambassador's office by one door he paused. She walked into an office space that was identical to Sarek's in size and design.

The secretarial office had been converted into a composition studio. The door that would have led to the main office now led to an instructional facility and rehearsal space with a black baby grand nestled into a corner, along with a projector, and assorted Vulcan instruments.

"Soran, are you telling me all this is for me to use?"

"Correct. Is it insufficient?"

"No, not at all…it's perfect. Thank you."

She returned to her apartment and began to unpack her belongings. Over the course of the afternoon, reality began to settle in and she wondered if she knew what she had gotten herself into. There was knock at her door.

"Emma, is there anything else you require before I cease my duties for the evening?" Soran asked.

"I do have a question about the gardens. Are they open access, or is there a scheduled time when they're unavailable?"

"They are accessible at all times."

"Is that walking path continuous?"

"It is two miles in length," he responded.

"Ok, thank you."

He nodded and turned, entering an apartment two doors past hers.

***

She cleaned up her dishes from dinner, while Jake snaked around the kitchen looking for a snack to fall from heaven. He wrapped his tail around her legs and then ran off in search of prey. She decided that since the gardens were available anytime, she would check out that trail and go for a jog. She laced her shoes and after donning ear buds, she headed for the elevator. Once on the first floor, she was greeted by the evening security guard named Savel as he patrolled.

"May I assist you, Dr. McGregor?" he asked politely.

"Yes, Savel, which door leads to the gardens, please?"

"This is the most direct path."

He stood at the door, cautiously watching her exit. She thanked him and walked outside and surveyed a lovely place. She pushed play on her armband and set out.

***

Sarek had always appreciated the beauty of the full moon on San Francisco Bay. As the garden was not artificially lit at night, it provided an eerie hue on the grounds, which oddly reminded him of T'Khut's light-cast on the Vulcan desert near his childhood home.

He heard the sound of footfall outside his window and immediately became alert to who might be in the garden after hours. While it was not forbidden, the staff had all retired for the evening and was with their families. Then he saw her jogging around a curve in the path. He saw her limp and wince, hopping on one leg and grasping at the other. He was not certain, but thought he heard an expletive muttered under her breath.

She had managed half of the trail when her right calf seized up and she could only hope that no one heard her swearing. She hopped around on her left leg and sat down to stretch it out. She did not hear him approached.

He watched her carefully stretch her leg and rub the angry muscle.

"Are you injured?"

"Oh, my leg?"

He nodded.

"No no, I just don't have enough potassium and my calf muscle cramped up. I need to eat more bananas," she chuckled audibly, "and I do not think I stretched enough before I started."

He inclined his head to her and walked away, disappearing around the curve. He would need to meditate on why he found it so easy to dwell on her legs. She was not petite like Amanda had been - she was tall at six feet, with a strong physical build. He knew from her dossier that she had worked several years in the Fire-Med Corps at the Mars Colony prior to beginning her studies, and it was obvious that the physical rigor for that occupation had become habitual.

'I need more bananas?' Who says that? Emma asked herself.

After she was convinced that her leg would comply, she finished her run and returned to her apartment. When she walked up to her door, there was a basket sitting in front of it. Inside were bananas and a holo-vid referencing appropriate warm-up exercises.

The next morning, Sarek found an envelope lying on his desk. He opened it to find a handwritten note. All it said was 'Thank You'.


	2. Awareness and Discoveries

NEW: "Life After Death", Chapter 2

By: T'Ashalik

Sa/f

Rating: NC-17

Disclaimer: Sarek and Amanda are not mine. I make no money from this.

Many thanks to Selek! Again, terrific Beta-ing.

**Chapter 2**

Her first week at the embassy was one of the most disorienting experiences of her life. Everything she had planned for the startup of the lessons was woefully lacking. Her student demographic was comprised of an eight-year-old, a fifteen-year-old and seven adults ranging from eighty-five to one-hundred-ninety years of age. They did not need the same kind of review and prompting that so many of her Terran students did. She decided to call her dissertation supervisor for advice. He smiled and greeted her when he answered.

"Emma," he said, "how is the new job?"

"Ugh, Dr. Jarvis, they're killin' me," she groaned.

"How so?" he asked, laughing out loud. It was a sinister laugh – it reminded her oddly of Rasputin mixed with Marquis de Sade, but she could not be completely sure.

"I _thought_ I had set out a good start-up plan," she sighed, her head flopping into her hands. "I was wrong."

He smiled, and then decided to show her some mercy. After he got the snickering out of his system, he offered a few teaching suggestions, and then realized he could not leave well enough alone. "Emma, I am afraid you have finally gotten a taste of the kind of student you were."

"Fair enough, I guess the chicken does actually have to roost somewhere." She smiled at him.

As she began the third day, she was feeling more in control of her classroom - not that they were out of control, she just was more in control. By the end of the first week, she found herself fitting in quite well. She sat at her desk finalizing her weekly report and turned to her inbox, delighted in the fact it was finally empty.

Then she picked up the piece of paper that had been following her for more than two years. It was the last poem she translated under Amanda Grayson's guidance, completed in January, 2293…and was the only one she had never received corrections for.

Her mind went to a conversation she had with her uncle when he came to visit her in February of that same year. She was still living in Boston and preparing for her oral comprehensive exams to complete her master's degree in xenomusicology. He met her at her apartment with a bouquet of flowers in one hand and lunch in the other.

"Hello, my favorite niece. How are you?" He smiled as she hugged him and invited him inside.

"I am fine, and I am your _only_ niece. Thank you for the flowers! They're lovely. How was your trip?"

"A little bumpy, but tolerable. How are the preparations for your orals coming?"

"Fine, I just want to get them over with," she said, serving the Chinese take-out for them. She pulled two bottles of Newcastle out of the fridge and handed him one. "Chinese and ale – it's an amazing combination. Its character building, I think." She smiled at him.

They sat down to eat and talked about family, books, home – it was refreshing to hear her native Gaelic, to see her kin, and to know that she was not alone in things.

"Uncle Ken, I need your advice on something."

"What?" he asked, finally putting the chopsticks down in frustration and picking up a fork instead.

"Well, I am not certain how to address an issue. Being that you are my _favorite_ uncle, you would know how to handle this…"

He interrupted her teasingly. "I am your _only_ uncle."

"I know, its funny how that works." She laughed. "Seriously, I have a problem. I normally meet with my Vulcan tutor once every three weeks via subspace, and then I submit my assignments and corrections to her through normal channels. Well, my last assignment came back unread, and she did not call in for our meeting last week. It's kind of odd; Dr. Grayson is very punctual, and if things change, she lets me know. Should I call her or wait?"

It suddenly dawned on Ken that Emma did not know, but then how would she? She was not in the loop of the gossip mill at the diplomatic corps headquarters. He put his fork down, took a long drink of ale, and cleared his throat.

"Emma, a call will not be necessary. How long ago did you send that assignment to her?"

"Three weeks ago, why?" She was confused at his last statement.

"Amanda Grayson died two weeks ago, Emma. I am sorry you did not know. It never occurred to any of us to tell you." He reached across the table and squeezed her hand gently.

"I see. I am very sorry to hear that. It explains a lot, actually..." Her thought faded midsentence. Her vegetable lo mein stared up at her, daring her to take another bite. All she could do was push it aside.

Ken sat back, concerned. He could not believe neither he nor Will had remembered to tell Emma when they received the news of Amanda's death. The ambassador's aide, Soran, had called them directly. They had been finalizing the editing of her forward to the book they were writing. When they received the news, they chose to leave the forward in her original, unedited format. It seemed to be the most appropriate way to honor the voice of such a remarkable person.

"Emma, are you all right?" he asked with worry in his voice.

She nodded quietly, not meeting his gaze. "Thanks for lunch, I do appreciate it, but I have lost my appetite. I will save it for later, if you don't mind, Uncle."

"Of course I don't mind. I can stay a while, unless you would rather be alone?"

"I think I need some time by myself. Are you sure you don't mind?" she asked, not wanting to send him away abruptly or hurt his feelings.

"No, I understand. Here is my code at the hotel. You call me if you need anything, ok?"

She nodded and took the card from him. He stood and hugged her, kissing the top of her head then left.

***

Boston was a cold place to be on a February evening… and on this particular February evening, she sat on her tiny balcony, wrapped up in her plaid blanket, her thoughts swirling like the snowfall around her. A tight knot began to form in her chest, her heart aching for her friend.

As people could be heard walking on the street below, laughing and talking together, Emma had to suppress the urge to demand their silence and reverence for the memory of a woman whose influence was so profound, whose life-work had been so impacting; someone Emma considered a dear friend.

She thought of something valuable that she could smash against a wall, but immediately knew it would only make the hurt stop for a moment, returning even worse, and she would have a mess to clean up, too. So she bundled tighter in her tartan.

Amanda was, in many ways, a kindred spirit with Emma. She was frighteningly smart and she took grief from no one. In her written communications, Amanda would often ask about Earth, Scotland…anything that allowed her a small taste of the planet she'd left behind.

"Emma, I have no regrets about leaving Earth behind to be with Sarek. None at all – but I do miss home sometimes. I don't travel as much as I used to," she said one afternoon following a lesson. "Tell me about Skye. I have never been there, but I understand it's lovely!"

They talked of books, gardens, oceans, Robert Burns, love, life…Amanda was someone Emma could relate to, and now that was gone.

Hot, anguished tears ran across her face. She was angry – outraged by her ignorance of the event. She owed such a debt of gratitude to her _Osavensu_ and would never be able to offer payment of that debt now.

She admonished herself for missing the opportunity to simply say 'thanks'. She had taken for granted that opportunity would come again…not now, it wouldn't.

Eventually driven inside to warm her cold-numbed toes, she wrapped up in her duvet on the couch, pouring over all of their communications from the past six years. In a way, it was as if a portion of Amanda was preserved for Emma to revisit when she needed the wisdom and counsel of her friend-now-gone.

As she read page after page, she could hear Amanda's voice in her mind – sometimes soft and gentle, other times irritated and frustrated with her. She thought of a short conversation they had the previous December:

"Emma, how on Earth can you not have met someone by now? How long has it been – seven years?" Amanda asked, incredulously. "What about that guy, oh what was his name, Martin?"

"He was a toad, Amanda. Honestly, I've met several, but I haven't met _him_ yet. But when we do meet, I will know," Emma smiled.

"Then I will know, right?" Amanda teased.

"Absolutely you will…"

The memory faded quickly as Emma plunged headlong into heavy sleep, her dreams confused and bleary.

***

As she sat at her desk in the embassy, Emma thought about her departed friend and mentor. Amanda had been one of a select few teachers in Emma's life that had not washed their hands of her when she surpassed their expectations. Amanda had gone so far as to challenge Emma more than any other ever had. She knew about Amanda's upfront and no-holds-barred approach to teaching. There was no mercy for error, even at what happened to be their last lesson:

"Emma, you have got to come out of the brogue. It's affecting your pronunciations. I am always in support of 'getting your Scottish pride on', but this has got to get better. I am not happy about this at all," Amanda said with irritation.

"Yes ma'am." It was all Emma could say.

It was not a matter of cultural pride; it was simply her accent, and it was in the way. A tiny part of her wanted to tell Amanda why it was so difficult to let it go. Scots Gaelic had nearly been eradicated in the 19th and 20th centuries, and was only in a few parts of rural Scotland now. She felt afraid to put it down, even temporarily, as if she would never find it again.

Emma also knew it was not her place to correct her instructor, so she willed herself to submit to Amanda's criticisms. She was really trying to fix the problem, and was very worried she would be released from the lessons if she did not meet the standards Amanda was setting.

Amanda took a deep breath and willed herself to relax. She wanted to be easier on the girl, but the pronunciations had to improve. This would not do at all.

"Listen to how it sounds: _poo-low_,as in 'ow, that hurt', _nah-vah-thoo-lahr kuh-nook_, 'as in book'," she continued. Emma tried again, and it was already better.

"Now translate," she instructed.

Emma thought for a moment, and replied. "Reach out to people with courtesy?"

"Incorrect, 'Reach out to _others_ _courteously_'. Don't neglect the adverb form. Emma, please excuse me a moment."

Amanda walked out of the office she shared with Sarek and headed toward the kitchen for a drink of water. They encountered each other in the living room. He'd sensed her frustration and was on his way to the office with a glass of water for her, thinking it might help.

"Sarek, you read my mind. Thank you." She kissed his cheek and took the glass from him.

"Indeed I did, I have been doing so for many years, Amanda. I fail to understand why this continues to surprise you," he replied with the smile that was just for her.

She laughed at him gently.

"_Aduna_, am I to understand that she is still struggling with vowels?" he asked, gently moving a silver strand of hair from her face and tucking it away behind her ear.

"Yes, she is. It's not as if she was unprepared. If that were the case, I would harbor no shame in my heart for being so tough on her." She took a long drink.

"She is improving. _I_ hear the difference," he said. She nodded and they walked back to the office together.

He sat at his desk, adjacent to Amanda's, and worked silently as the lesson continued even though progress was slow, but evident. He wrote down a specific teaching of Surak they had not worked through yet, and handed Amanda the slip of paper, touching her hand as she took it from him. Her expression softened, and she decided to use it.

"This time, translate from Standard to Golic, please," she said.

Emma nodded, pencil ready to write.

"We have differences. May we, together, become greater than the sum of us."

Sarek heard furious scribbling over the com-link as Emma worked out the translation; quietly sounding out each word, arranging grammar, and catching herself in errors midsentence. While she waited, Amanda reached to his hand and held it in hers.

"Ok, I think I have it." Emma paused. "Here it goes: _Ma etek natyar – teretuhr lau etek shetau lo'uk…_no, ah yes…_weh-lo'uk do tum t'on_." She looked at Amanda expectantly. Sarek nodded in satisfaction: she had corrected the incomplete word, and her vowels were nearly perfect. An excellent student indeed, he thought to himself.

"Very good work," Amanda smiled at her, "and unfortunately we are out of time. I will send a communication with my thoughts for today and your next assignment. Also, please send that last poem to me as soon as you can – the one by T'Valdena. It's one of my favorites, and I am looking forward to your perspective on it."

"Yes ma'am, and thank you for your patience," Emma replied.

"Emma, it was good today, but I expect _much better_ next time." Amanda nodded and ended the call.

***

Emma sighed at that memory, and dialed the number of her former graduate studies advisor at Harvard, Theo Sandburg.

"_Dr_. McGregor! How are you, young lady?" he asked with a huge smile on his face.

"Fine, thank you, Dr. Sandburg. How is Harvard?"

"Just as you left it. Congratulations on your dissertation defense. We heard about it – it seems you upset the apple cart for some people. What can I do for you?"

"Well, I am following up on our last six conversations," she said.

He looked away from her, knowing what she was referencing, and that he was going to have to answer her sooner or later.

She continued. "May I please have the name of the person who donated the scholarship to assist in my language studies before my doctoral work? I need to offer my thanks – it was an enormous donation, and should not go unacknowledged, especially this long."

"Why don't you send the communication to me I will deliver it to them?" he asked, trying to keep her at bay with the questioning.

"No sir, I cannot do that. It would not be appropriate; and I get the distinct impression that you really do not want to give me the information. Why?"

"Emma, you are not gonna like what I am about to tell you, so I will preface everything with 'please do not be angry with me'." He looked at her pathetically, took a deep breath, and then continued. "There was no scholarship. While we paid for your outgoing communications to Dr. Grayson, she and her husband paid for the incoming calls."

He cringed inwardly, but no angry response came. In its stead was something he deemed much worse – stunned silence. She was turning an interesting shade of red.

Emma looked at him, her face hot and flushed with embarrassment. "Dr. Sandburg, did you just say that she and Ambassador Sarek paid for _six years worth_ of incoming _subspace_ calls?"

He nodded.

She leaned forward toward the com-unit. "_Six years worth_!" she repeated emphatically, her voice barely above a whisper. The right corner of her mouth jerked downward and she struggled to gain control of her anger. "You _lied_ to me."

"Emma, they felt it was a good investment in your future. They wanted to ensure you had the training you needed – and rest assured that she did not do that for other students." He paused a moment. "We knew you would not accept the assistance under those conditions, so we all agreed to treat it as if it were a scholarship. I am sorry."

She rubbed her temples to attempt relief for the headache that began pounding. "My God. Ok. That is what I needed to know. Thank you for telling me."

"I hope you are not too angry with me."

"No, I am not, I just… Do you realize I work for him now? How do I look him in the eye, knowing this?"

She was already looking up the total amount of time they spent in their subspace communications, and then compared that to the average rates. At 52,000 credits, give or take, the 'investment in her future' was overwhelmingly nauseating.

"No – you – did you get the FCID job?" He was taken aback.

"Yes, I did. I started on Monday, it's where I am calling from." She felt sick to her stomach.

"I interviewed for that job in January. Congratulations, Emma. If I have to lose to someone, I would rather it be you, even if you might not speak to me for a very long time." He looked at her sheepishly.

"Dr. Sandburg I need to go." She ended the call and immediately dialed Soran's extension.

"Yes, Emma?"

"Soran, is Ambassador Sarek available today? I would speak with him at his earliest convenience," she said, matter-of-factly.

"He is available at 1630 hours. Shall I schedule you then?"

"Yes please."

Soran nodded and she ended the call abruptly. She got busy calculating the length of her subspace conversations and gathering as much billing information as possible. Once she rechecked her figures, she verified that she had enough credits in her savings to pay it off completely. It was a good thing her room and board was included at the embassy, otherwise, she might not be eating very much for a while. She looked at the clock and saw it was 1628 hours.

She walked out of her office and right into Soran's. He opened Sarek's office door for her and closed it quietly behind her. She stood silently in front of his desk as he finished writing out a thought on a trade proposal and then acknowledged her.

"Dr. McGregor, would you care to sit down?"

"No sir, I prefer to stand."

He looked at her for a moment. She reminded him of Amanda refusing to sit when she was particularly irritated with him. Emma looked upset, but he did not know what could have caused this reaction in her.

"As you wish. How may I be assistance?"

"Well sir, I actually need to rectify a concern that has come to my attention this afternoon. I, well, I was _grossly_ misinformed about the funding for my linguistic tutoring as a graduate student. Dr. Grayson and I would exchange subspace calls every three weeks. I knew that Harvard was funding my outgoing calls. They told me there was a scholarship donated to pay for the incoming calls. I learned today that you and Dr. Grayson were paying for them from your own resources." She paused, looking away from him.

He looked at her, listening carefully to both what she was and was not saying. That was a skill that Amanda taught him to use when working with humans. As irrational as it was to him, humans would speak volumes in what they withheld from a conversation.

"For the past two years, I have been trying to get my supervisor from Harvard to tell me who the donor was so I could thank them once my doctoral studies were completed. It took seven phone calls to get him to tell me the truth. I am not happy about that, but I will get over it.

"I made the best calculations I could based upon the frequency, duration, and time of the calls over six years. I came up with an estimate of the cost at 52,485 credits. It's as exact as I can get with the information I have," she said quietly. She handed him the PADD with her calculations. His memory told him she had estimated too high…the actual number was 49,965 credits.

"Dr. McGregor, Amanda and I agreed that the cost was more than justifiable. I do not understand why this has affected you negatively."

"I'm angry because I was not told the actual source of the funding. We have a saying on Skye: 'I may be poor, but I'm clean and I'm proud'. With all due respect, sir, I can pay my own way. I have the funds to repay this debt. I would have done so sooner had I known the truth of the matter," she said honestly.

She hesitated for a long moment, quelling a surge of sorrow. "I also wish to offer my condolences, even though they are _very _late. I did not even know that Dr. Grayson had died until three weeks after the fact. I found out from my uncle. I know it's illogical, but I thought I had displeased her with my performance during my last lesson," she said softly. Sarek remembered that lesson.

"I sent my last translation assignment in for her critique and it was returned to me, unopened. Then she did not make the call for our meeting in February," she finished.

She was filled with sadness, and it was the first time he was able to sense a projected feeling from her. She was normally very well shielded, but today's stress had evidently been enough to interfere with her control. As good as hers was, this moment was a stark reminder to him that she was still human.

"Dr. McGregor, please sit." He stood quietly and indicated that they sit at the conference table. He did not understand her obvious feelings of guilt over mistakes in a lesson. It is expected that students make mistakes. Amanda had been quite pleased with her progress, even if she was given to outwardly expressing her frustrations with Emma frequently.

She nodded quietly, and sat down. He walked to where she was sitting and poured tea for them both. He sat across from her, observing her behavior. She was hopelessly trying to stifle tears that were already spilling over. What she said next reinforced his observation of her previous instructor's attitudes when he had investigated her as a candidate for the position.

"Please forgive me," she whispered, unable to look at him. "The last thing I want is that my inattention to detail was the reason she ceased to teach me. She was my mentor, my _Osavensu_, my… friend. She was the only one that did not give up on me. As much as her death has affected me, I realize that is nothing compared to what you lost."

He reflected upon the moment Amanda's spirit ceased to be, remembering the searing agony caused by the severing of their bond. He took a deep and carefully controlled breath, answering her in his native tongue. "_Nam-tor ri thrap wilat nem-tor rim._" He paused.

She translated in her mind: there is no offense where none is taken. She nodded slightly to him, trying to dry her eyes.

He then continued quietly. "Dr. McGregor, I would share some information with you."

"Please call me Emma," she requested.

"Emma, Amanda spoke to me of you once. She respected your studious nature, your desire for mastery of my language. She also described you as one of the most intelligent humans she had ever worked with. She held you in high regard.

"I am aware that she was very assertive with you during the instructional sessions. I know that to be caused by her desire to bring you to a plane of accomplishment that awaited you. You challenged her abilities, and she thrived on that. She had to work very hard to teach you.

"Her physical decline was sudden, and in the last days of her life she was under the supervision of her healer, and ordered to bed. I assure you that she did not intentionally ignore your work. I also know of which poem you speak. It is by T'Valdena, is it not?"

"Yes, but how did you know it was that one?" she asked.

"It was the only one of your translations I could not access prior to your job interview. I read the other 1,562," he answered.

She just looked at him, not sure of how to respond to someone who read seven hundred eighty-one poems a month. She jokingly wondered what he did in his spare time.

"Do you have a copy of it available? It would be satisfying evaluate it," he said softly. "I would find it acceptable to complete the readings."

"Just a moment, please." She stood and went to her office, picking up the handwritten copy of it from her desk. All of her notes, scribbles, thoughts – all there for him to see. She returned and handed it to him before she sat. As he read it aloud, Sarek carefully considered her choices for colloquial expression.

Ya'akash Nash-veh Skasu Yuzhat Ashaya T'Nash-veh

"Deal Gently With My Love"

"Buine Gu Caoimhneil Rimoghaol"

by T'Valdena, of Kwil'nor, Hanshir Province, Early Reform, [No. 1563]

(Translated into FSE and Scots Gaelic by Emma C. McGregor – January, 2293)

1] _Sporun T'Valdena t'koveh nahp t'ashaya_:

The Maiden exclaimed with her voice of Love:

Bhris le guth a gràidh an òigh:

2] _Uf vaksuric t'dular kashek – weh-lo'uk ha'ge-Nevasa – mak nikhlar t'nash-veh!_

How majestic is your countenance – more beautiful than the light of Nevasa - delight of my eyes!

Cia mór a mheinn – b'annsa thusa na dearr sadh na Nevasa - miann mo shùl!

3] _U'vlitaya nar-tor katra t'nash-veh, t'du-polau fundauik k'tun_.

In ransom for my soul, you received me well and treated me hospitably.

An éirig m'anama, rinn e gle mhath dhion.

4] _T'du-ashaya t'nash-veh taluk, namautau ek'kosular._

Your love for me is wonderful, surpassing all other women.

B'ionganatch do gràdh dhomsa, a toirt barrachd air gràdh nam ban.

5] _Di'kizh-tor ashaya t'dular, nash-veh gluvan fonn'es, t'nash-veh k'diwa t'ek'sasular!_

In return for your love, I have shown my faithfulness, My Beloved, of all other men!

An éirig a graidh,do dhìlseachd chuin mian céill, a chiall de na fearaibh!

Sarek swallowed slightly. The sensuality T'Valdena was known for had directly translated into English. Emma's translations tended to profoundly involve interpersonal intimacy, whether it was physical, emotional, intellectual, even spiritual. Her mastery of the language was quite thorough. He would meditate upon this translation later in the evening. "This is well done, Emma, she would be pleased. It certainly has your translation style in it." He paused. "It is curious to me how Surak is applicable today as he was during his life." He looked at her directly.

"What do you mean, sir?" she asked.

"Please call me Sarek during personal conversations," he said. "_Nam-tor wak vah yut s'vesht na'fa' wak heh pla'rak_." He waited for her to translate.

"Time is a…path…from the past to…the future, and back again?"

"Correct. Emma, regarding the cost of the communications, I will ask you to allow Amanda's desire to provide for you to be honored. I do not consider you to be in my debt and I deem the matter closed." He waited for her acknowledgement, continuing when it came. "I desire to schedule a weekly meeting with you to discuss socio-political influences on Terran artistic practices."

"I think that would be an interesting dialogue, Sarek," she answered.

"Perhaps we may begin with 'Guernica'?" he asked. "My schedule will accommodate Wednesday afternoons at 1600 hours," he finished.

"Excellent choice. Next Wednesday it is then."

*** June, 2295 ***

Four months into her new job, Emma found herself delightfully busy. She could get away with working as much as sixteen hours in a day, and it was all good. The challenges of starting the first phase of the Cultural Interchange Directives were enormous but she thought they were progressing well.

Her students were gaining proficiency at a faster rate than she expected. In a few months they would be joining the Ministry ensembles, even when folks outside the program thought it wouldn't happen for a few years. These students were tenacious, and she liked that.

It was a beautiful Wednesday morning, and she sat at her computer terminal with a cup of Jamaican Blue coffee, her office window open. The weather was beautiful; the sky was clear, and a nice breeze blew softly across the gardens drawing in the scent of every flowering plant into her private little world.

She began preparing for the day's lessons, to be followed by lunch, and then her favorite part of Wednesday - an hour with the ambassador. Today they would discuss Tchaikovsky and the Overture to 1812, particularly the restrictions placed against its performance by the Russian government when it was composed.

She hated to admit it to herself, but she found Sarek highly attractive. She also had determined that his enticing scent was a natural one for a Vulcan male. The odd thing was that while the males all had that type of scent, his was the only one that affected her so. It was intoxicating.

She had never, ever considered a relationship with an extraterrestrial. She was not a xenophobe by any means; it had just never crossed her mind until lately. She felt quite certain that he would not be interested, and it would be less than appropriate to breach the subject so she worked hard to put it out of her mind while she was planning her day.

After eight-year-old T'Naara's lesson, it was finally time for lunch. Emma went to the common area and sat at what had become her favorite table, looking out over the gardens. She began working on her soup and fruit, and started reading an antique music textbook.

Meanwhile, a Federation Council envoy arrived at the embassy gates. "I will speak with Dr. Emma McGregor," a tall man said, offering his identification card to the guards as the other two men stood behind him.

Savel questioned him carefully. "Do you have an appointment? She is currently engaged with her students."

"No, I do not, however this is a matter of importance."

"As are her students," Savel replied bluntly. "She has requested to not be interrupted while teaching. May I deliver the message to her in your stead?"

"No. I have an urgent communication from the Federation Council, and my instructions are to deliver it directly into her hands. My instructions were quite clear," he replied, not liking the Vulcan's tone.

Savel looked at him pointedly, and then dialed Soran's office comm-unit. Speaking in Vulcan, he explained the situation to him.

"Savel, what department are they from?" Soran asked.

"The Ministry of Xenocultural Affairs, specifically. They have a communication bearing the seal of the Federation Council. I have verified its authenticity. They have a direct communication for her and are required to hand deliver it."

"I will be there momentarily."

Soran informed Sarek, who instructed him to invite them in and he would locate her. As it was 12:15, he chose to begin his search in the common area. Sure enough, she was sitting at her favorite table.

"Excuse me, Emma," Sarek said quietly.

"Hello, would you care to join me?"

"Another time perhaps; I must ask you to accompany me to my office."

When they arrived at Sarek's office, Soran and the Council visitors were waiting in the entry. Sarek then invited them inside.

"Dr. McGregor, my name is Darian Kol. I am the assistant to the Minister of Xenocultural Affairs," the man said, asserting his authority in the encounter.

"Good Afternoon, Mr. Kol. How may I be of assistance?" she asked.

"I have a directive request from the Federation Council to deliver to your hands." He stood and approached her with an envelope. "I am instructed to ask you to open it, read it, and respond. I must return to the Minister with your reply."

With that, he sat down and stared at her in an intently condescending manner. Sarek observed his aggressiveness with her. His companions, however, did not offer the same arrogance.

Sarek had spent enough time with her in the past months to recognize when she was assessing someone, and it was happening at that moment. She looked at Kol directly, and then her eyes became slightly distant and unfocused. She saw his insecurity, dislike of her, and conceit. She determined they would be his undoing in this interaction.

Then Sarek watched the staring contest start. Several moments passed and just as it seemed they were at a stalemate, Kol was the first to blink. Sarek realized this was not a humorous engagement between them, rather she deemed it necessary to establish equilibrium in their interaction. Once he looked away from her, she opened the envelope and read the letter carefully.

Dear Dr. McGregor,

The artistic community within the Federation recently suffered the loss of a tremendous voice, that of Shiyoran Ka'alte. For 77 years, he served cultural growth by performing the duties of Composer Laureate to the Federation. His death six months ago marked the end of an era of extraordinary progress with regards to cultural understanding between the members of the United Federation of Planets.

The Council has very carefully evaluated all possibilities, and arrived at the unanimous conclusion that you are the most appropriate nomination for this lifelong position. Duties of the office include annual composition, directorship of performance, and pursuance of continued cultural awareness and understanding between existing Federation members and new applicants. The position carries with it an initial yearly salary of 150,000 credits. Your duties may be performed from any Federation member planet.

The messenger bearing this communication is required to return with your reply.

Sincerest Regards,

Olsen Tecka

Minister of Xenocultural Affairs

She read it again, trying to determine exactly how they had arrived at her. There were so many others with much greater life experience and compositional ability that should have been chosen.

She decided to employ a gambit that had worked with the purchase of a flitter and the recent acquisition of a job: she made him wait. She knew he was aware of the contents of the letter, and her reading of his emotional state told her that he thought her woefully unsuited and inexperienced for such a job. So, she drank her coffee and sat in silence for fifteen minutes.

Sarek recognized the tactic immediately. She had taken the same body posture and nonverbal communication with him when he offered her the job. He also saw that Darian Kol did not like to be kept waiting. Sarek estimated that Mr. Kol realized he had lost sight of his place in this interaction as he began to fidget and shift in his chair. His associates however, did not. They sat very still, and when she read each of them, they were calm and relaxed, and embarrassed by the behavior of their colleague.

She finally decided to offer her response. She picked up her stylus and marked the acceptance letter, signing it with her very distinctive autograph, and then placed it into the secondary envelope. She sealed it, and signed over the seal. Without a sound, she walked to Darian Kol and handed him the envelope.

"What is your decision?" he demanded.

"My decision is reserved for your employer, not his messenger, Mr. Kol. Thank you for delivering this to me today." She stared up at him as he towered over her. Sarek thought her resolution of the exchange to be quite satisfactory…the messenger reminded him of a rather persistent Tellarite from his past.

He looked down at her, stunned, as awareness of her insult seeped into his mind. She was not telling him anything and had swiftly disarmed him in front of these other men. He abruptly nodded at Sarek and Soran, glared at her, and turned on his heel to leave. As the other men followed him quietly, one turned with an apologetic look on his face and mouthed the words 'I am sorry' to them as he left.

Sarek watched them leave, and invited her to sit down for more coffee. After a few minutes of silence, Sarek spoke.

"Emma, may I inquire as to the nature of the communication?" His curiosity was getting the better of him.

"I have been offered the post of Composer Laureate," she said quietly. Both Sarek and Soran looked at her with anticipation. She continued to drink her coffee feeling incredibly smug. She looked at each of them directly, and after a few moments, she quietly finished her statement. "I accepted it."

"Congratulations, _Oralash-tanaf-tersu_," Soran said.

"Indeed," Sarek agreed. "You have earned a title of great honor. I am certain you will fulfill these duties well."

*** Late July, 2295***

Emma was deep in thought when her comm-unit roused her back to reality. She answered it and was greatly pleased to see her father's face on the view screen. He smiled at her, his dark green eyes sparkling at his only child.

"My girl! How are you?" his deep bass rumbled loudly.

"Hi Dad, I am well. You? How's Mum?"

In the background she heard her mother shout a greeting.

"She would be civil and come say hello, but she's kneading bread dough at the moment. I don't want to have the repairman come out to fix _that_ a second time." He laughed. Her mother could be heard threatening him mildly for defaming her character in front of their daughter.

"So why the unexpected call? It's not Sunday afternoon, you know," Emma said, feeling a bit ornery.

"You see, that is why you got the doctorate. _You_ can read a calendar. It makes me so proud it brings a tear to my eye," he said, feeling feisty. Emma knew that meant all was well on the Isle. She scoffed at him and laughed.

"I wanted to let you know that _The Progeniture of McLeod_ has been asked to perform at the Edinburgh Tattoo next month. It's late, but they have made time on the final night for us. The clan chief asked if you would be with us."

"What is the date of the performance?" she asked, accessing her calendar. "I would love to perform with the clan guard. It has been too long."

"Indeed it has. It'll be the last Saturday night performance, umm, the 24th," he replied. "Also, the Bruce's have invited us for a visit in Edinburgh the following day since we'll already be there. They know about your being named laureate, and I think they have a recognition ceremony of some kind in the works if you are able to attend. They are feeling rather prideful that the first Terran to be appointed to the position is a Scot."

"They're jealous I am not a Bruce." She smiled devilishly at him.

"That could be a part in it as well." He laughed. He loved his daughter dearly. He wished she was closer though. A lot of time had passed since she had come home for a visit, and he was not getting any younger.

"My schedule is clear most of that week, except for my regular students. What if I come in on Wednesday the 21st?" she offered.

"That should be fine. I will get the music to you by tomorrow evening, ok?" he asked.

"That'll be fine, Dad. How's the rest of the family? Did Jenny hear on her A-levels yet?" she asked. Her seventeen-year-old cousin had completed her secondary schoolwork a year early and was anxiously awaiting her exam results.

"Nothing on the exams yet that we know of," he said.

"Ok, well, please tell everyone hello for me."

"Will do. Emma?"

"Yes, sir?"

"I love you dearly, child. I am looking forward to seeing you," he said. He leaned into the comm-unit. "Um, your mother misses you, a lot. Do you think you might be able to visit a bit more often? I know she would never say; she would not want you to feel bad about it or anything." He got quiet as Anna walked in drying her hands off on a kitchen towel, showing them for his approval.

"Hello Emma! I managed to get dough inside the thing last time." She fussed at Will a moment. "Would ya go away? Can I not speak to my daughter alone?" she teased. He grumbled, waved at Emma and then left the room.

"Hi Mum. Dad's feeling his oats today I see."

"Yeah, he is. About that," she said quietly into the comm-unit, "do you think you might be able to find time to visit more frequently? I only say something about it 'cause your father does miss you. It bothers him to not see you very often…he would never say so to you, but I know he thinks about it."

Emma sat back and pondered the conspiracy that was taking place in front of her. Rather than question them, she decided to just comply; it was very un-McLeod to do so, but she reasoned that when parents were involved, one should not go against their wishes too much.

"I will endeavor to do so, Mum," she conceded.

"Excellent, I, I mean he would love that. Anyway, gotta go, and _we_ will see you in August," she said, and blew a kiss at Emma, ending the call.

Emma looked at the blank screen. They could play her like a cheap guitar, and they knew it. But they were right – five years was too long.

She sent messages to each of her students whose lessons would be affected by the change in the schedule for that week, and then stepped into Soran's office. He was not there, but Sarek's office door was open. She could hear the shuffling of paperwork, so she approached the door and peered inside. He was very focused on his work and did not realize she was there, so she knocked on the door softly.

Sarek looked up and saw her standing in the doorway. It pleased him to see her each day. They had met regularly for months now, and often his mind would not only engage in the conversation, but he would simply take in her beauty. "Emma, please come in," he invited, noticing the subtle change in the color of her cheeks.

"Sarek, I need to reschedule our meeting for the 21st of August," she said softly. She noticed he had begun using human pleasantries with her in the past two months.

"May I ask why you must reschedule?" he asked, opening his calendar to accommodate her request. He rather enjoyed their conversations, and found it decidedly unsatisfactory to miss one. A major trade negotiation was already going to interfere with their entire schedule in September.

"I will be performing with our clan honor guard at the Edinburgh Tattoo that following Saturday. I also will be visiting my family for the first time in a long while, and I plan to be there for a few days."

"Of course. Would Tuesday the 20th be acceptable? Perhaps we could meet in the evening, at 1900 hours?"

"Certainly, and thank you, Sarek." She smiled and left. As she walked to the elevator, she decided she might have to work up the courage to suggest they have their conversation over dinner.

*** Tuesday the 20th of August, 2295***

At her lunch break, Emma sent a message to Sarek, confirming their appointment for that evening.

Sarek,

I thought perhaps we could share end-meal this evening during our appointment. Please advise if this is acceptable.

Emma

She was silently berating herself for sending the message when a reply came in almost immediately. She looked at it, almost afraid to open it. She was sure it would be a rejection. Either way, at least she would know if she had been inappropriate. Reluctantly, she opened the message.

Emma,

I would be honored. I shall meet you at your quarters.

Sarek

She stifled a squeal of delight, and then she went looking for Savel, finding him at the security desk.

"Excuse me, Savel," she said quietly.

"Yes, _Osavensu_?"

"I require assistance from T'Naara, and decided I should ask your permission first. I will be in Scotland from Wednesday through Sunday evening. I would like to ask her to feed my cat," she stated.

"My daughter has quite an affinity for the beast. I am certain she will attend to him appropriately," he replied.

"Thank you, Savel. I will speak with her regarding the details," she smiled.

He inclined his head to her and returned to his duties monitoring the security feeds.

Emma completed her duties for the remainder of the week quickly and then sent T'Naara a message regarding Jake's needs for the duration of her journey. She knew the child would rigorously see to his health and care while she was gone.

***

When he stepped out into the hallway, Sarek's nose twitched at the smell of what appeared to be his favorite casserole. He followed the wafting scent to her door and knocked. She opened it and welcomed him in.

"Would you care for anything to drink?" she asked.

"Water, please."

As she went to get the drink for him, he stepped into her living room, perusing the shelf of photographs that stood at its entrance. He recognized her father Will from years past in the diplomatic corps, and for the dark green eyes she had obviously inherited. Her uncle Ken was in another with a lovely woman and two beautiful children – a son and a daughter.

There were various photos of Emma as a baby. One that grabbed Sarek's attention was of Will lying on the floor on his back, with a six–month-old Emma sitting proudly on his chest looking quite satisfied, green eyes sparkling, red fuzz sticking out on her head, and a toothless grin. It was titled '_Emma Conquers Daddy, July__2257'_.

He gingerly picked up a faded photograph he realized was taken in the seconds after Emma's birth. A very tired and happy Anna held her moments-old daughter, who was visibly smiling up at her mother.

Sarek realized as he looked at each picture carefully that Emma had entered the universe with a most pleasing disposition. Her joy and happiness permeated life, surrounding her family. He realized that that particular interaction, that endearing and engaging smile, was only shared with those she regarded affectionately. It then occurred to him she gave it freely to him each day.

She walked quietly into the living room with his glass in hand to find him absorbed in the photographs. "Sarek, your water," she said, handing him the glass.

"Ah, thank you. I was looking at your photographs. You strongly resemble your mother, although I believe you inherited your father's eye color."

"Yes, and his build, unfortunately; he is six feet three inches tall," she chuckled.

"Indeed?"

She motioned toward the seating area, and after he sat on the sofa, she plopped in her favorite chair. They began a conversation about the effects that global socio-political issues had on the Terran artistic community from 1890 through 1918.

After their talk, they moved to the dining area and she set their meal out. They ate in silence, something that she still was not entirely accustomed to. After end-meal he asked about her travels.

"Am I correct that Edinburgh is in the southeast of Scotland?" he asked.

"Yes, in the lowlands. It's very close to York," she replied. His scent was permeating her dining room. She mentally indulged in it, trying to not let that show.

"Where is Edinburgh in relation to your home?" he asked.

"Skye is one of the larger islands that make up the Inner Hebrides. It is just off the far west coast of the highlands, across the strait from Urqhart Castle. It's a truly lovely place, for certain."

Emma decided that the conversation would be much more pleasant, at least for her, if they were to move to the living room. He did not appear to be in a hurry to leave, so she said, "Sarek, would you mind if we return to the living room, it is much more comfortable."

"Of course." Sarek followed her back to the living room and watched her expertly start the firepot.

He found her clothing to be quite pleasing. She wore a muted heather blouse that fit her well enough to slightly reveal the definition of strong shoulders, the softness of her back, and the gentle slope of her breasts. Her faun trousers settled gently on her hips just below her waistline, and he promptly brought his mind back to where he deemed it should be as she sat in her chair. It was very quiet for a moment.

"Sarek, have you received any feedback from the students? It is, well, difficult to get input from them on how their classes are going," she asked him.

"It is uncustomary for a Vulcan to criticize the behavior and methods of their instructors, unless those actions are deemed to be illogical or without rational purpose," he began. "However, I have spoken with each of them over the past several months, and they are satisfied with the instruction they receive from you."

"Oh, I see. Would you feel it appropriate to share any of the ideas they might have had? If not, I completely understand," she replied.

"They have no criticism of your teaching styles, save one. Each of them expects to be given a greater challenge than you presently provide them, though. I believe this to be a lack of experience teaching Vulcans on your part." He paused, thinking for a moment. "I believe it would be correct to say it is 'ironic' that they seek from you what you have always sought from your own teachers: a greater challenge. Would you agree?" he asked.

She sat looking at him, speechless. She had been holding back simply because she thought it would be too much too soon. "I would indeed," she answered. "I never thought of it that way. I can provide them with much more, and that is certain. If they were humans, the level I have them at presently is pushing the edge a bit. Thank you for telling me that. I do not wish to do them a disservice."

"You would only do so if you did not make adjustments as you moved through this process, Emma."

"Understood," she answered him. Her mind was already processing adjustments to the teaching plans.

"I have a question on a different topic, if I may," he began. She nodded at him, and he continued. "How does one gain entrance to the tattoo this Saturday night?" he asked.

"Well, one doesn't, at least not now. The tattoo sells out well in advance, often several years so. Why?"

"The Madrossian trade negotiation schedule has been moved three weeks later than originally planned. As my schedule has opened up, I saw an opportunity to sate my curiosity regarding Terran military pageantry. However, I shall wait for another opportunity," he answered.

His words fell on her ears like manna from Heaven. She built up her courage and spoke, willing herself to remain calm and at least visibly at ease.

"Sarek, if you would like to attend, I think I may have a possible option for you. If you would be comfortable with this, you would most certainly be welcome to visit with my family this week. You would be welcomed as a guest of our clan at the tattoo," she said evenly. Thankfully her voice did not betray the hopefulness in her heart. "My family would be honored by your visit, of that I am certain."

He nodded silently. "What are your travel arrangements?"

"I was going to take public transport to Ireland and then shuttle over. It's not the best option, but it works," she replied.

"I am certain that the public transportation is efficient and safe; however, I prefer to travel privately, for matters of security. We shall utilize the embassy shuttle. What time would you care to depart?"

***

At 0800 hours, they traveled to the Isle of Skye. As Sarek piloted the shuttle in over the western coast of Scotland, toward the port city of Kyleakin, he noted the stunning beauty of the land beneath them: sharp, rocky hillsides of extraordinary green grass, with intense purple heather scattered across the landscape. The sapphire blue sky was dotted with soft, white clouds speckled by the flight of seagulls.

He glanced at an escarpment near the landing pad to see several puffins lined up on the edge looking down at them, and found that sight to be quite pleasing. He had read about them in a book on Terran fowl, but had never seen them in their natural environment.

Emma looked out of the shuttle window as they made their final approach to land. The beauty of her homeland had faded in her memory, and this renewal was a welcomed relief: the water, tidy white-washed homes, the black peat coastline, fishing boats docked and quiet.

Once the shuttle landed, she disembarked and then closed her eyes and took a deep breath of fresh air. She reached down to pick up her bag only to find it already in Sarek's hand as he was walking toward the waiting area. She followed quickly behind him. The family was waiting for them just off the side.

"Emma, welcome home," Will said, hugging her.

"Thanks, Daddy." She turned to Sarek. "This is Ambassador Sarek of Vulcan. Sir, this is my father, William McLeod, and my mother, Anna."

"Peace and long life, Dr. McLeod," Sarek said, raising his hand in the _ta'al_. "It would be acceptable for you to address me as Sarek."

"Welcome to Skye, Sarek. Please call me Will. I still look for my father when I hear 'Dr. McLeod'."

"Hello Sarek, welcome to Skye." Anna smiled at him. "We are very happy you have come to visit with us."

Sarek saw where Emma's beauty came from. Her mother was graceful, soft spoken, and gentle. Emma certainly reflected those qualities. She had also inherited Anna's pleasing physical traits and hair color.

"Thank you, Mrs. McLeod," he nodded to her. "Your hospitality is most kind."

"I am Anna, by the way. Ken, Murron, and their daughter will be at the house for supper tonight. Emma, I am so glad to see you, Darling."

Sarek watched as she cupped her daughter's face in her hands, planted a kiss on her forehead, and hugged her.

***

Fifteen minutes later, the flitter pulled into the drive at Emma's family home. Five years _had_ been too long. She stood and looked at the ancient house, in their family for more than nine generations. It seemed to smile at her in welcome. Her mother stood next to her, putting her arm around her daughter's waist.

Will had been explaining the family history of the land and home to Sarek, but stopped midsentence and observed them. Sarek looked to see what had distracted him so, and understood. The McLeod women were standing side by side, arms around each other's waists, hips cocked off to the right side.

"I love those women. They are like two peas in a pod," he said, half to himself.

"I do not understand that idiom, Will," Sarek stated, somewhat confused.

"Oh – it means they are very much alike in appearance and behavior. Another way to say it would be 'spittin' images'."

"Ah, I understand," he answered.

The men continued toward the back of the house. Will was particularly eager to show Sarek the family garden. It had been designed to utilize a condensation catchment model developed on Vulcan that eliminated ninety-three percent of water loss in irrigation.

Anna turned to Emma and said, "Emma, I love this house; but, I love that you are here even more. Your father wants to show Sarek the gardens. I know it's going to turn into 'guy' talk, but I'm going to go with them. Would you please check the bread in the oven and take his bags up?"

"Yes ma'am." She smiled at her mother.

Emma walked in the front door and was greeted by the smell of Anna's famous rye. She took it out of the oven and set it to cool on the counter. The comm-unit buzzed loudly, startling her. She walked to the unit to find it covered in flour, with dried rye dough on the keypad. She cleaned it off as she answered it. [perfect. Now it makes sense and is a funny scene as well. Well done!]

"Emma! You are early! How did you get here so quick?" Her aunt smiled at the sight of her.

"The ambassador asked to view the tattoo Saturday, and was kind enough to shuttle us in this morning," she answered, her cheeks flushing a tad. Murron look at her clearly. "What, Aunt Murron?"

"Hmm. Where is your mother, Emma?"

"She and daddy are showing Sarek the gardens," she said.

"He has a name, I see," she said, smiling at her. Emma looked at her carefully. "Emma, what is going on with him?"

"Nothing, Aunt Murron, seriously," she said. That did not mean she wasn't hopeful of it, though.

"Fine, don't talk then. Do me a favor and tell your mother the lamb will be done by 1700 hours," she instructed. Emma nodded, and her aunt continued. "So…he's a Vulcan, isn't he?" she asked.

"What's your point?"

"Simply that he is a vegetarian, and I will bring a good assortment of veggies for him this evening – unless you know someone else who would like to cook for him." She was enjoying this far too much.

"Goodbye." Emma was disgusted at the shameless teasing – and yes, she wanted to cook for him. So what? Her aunt smiled and ended the call.

Emma sat back in her chair, frustrated that it was that obvious to her own aunt. She only hoped it was not that obvious to everyone else. She glanced out the window and saw her father and Sarek walking through the gardens, Will doing what her mother called 'waving of arms and pointing at things importantly'. Her mother smiled at Will's excited explanations of the drip irrigation modifications and how they were working for them.

Emma picked up Sarek's bags and took them to the guest room on the second floor, placing them on the foot of his bed, and placed a towel and washcloth next to them. She set out an electric teapot on the desk and filled it with water, restocking the selection of teas to include several Vulcan varieties not available on the island. Then she went to her room.

It had been a very long time, and her mother's sense of nostalgia had not waned over the years: the awards she'd received in school were still on the shelf over her desk; the pictures Emma had drawn for them still on the walls. She drew back the curtains and opened her windows, allowing fresh air into the room. She made her bed and brought her bag up and sat at her desk, looking at her old books from school…a time that felt so far back in the past.

***

After a very interesting tour of their garden and a fascinating look at modifications to their irrigation system, Sarek stood in the living room, and decided that taking a great many photographs was evidently an inherited trait in this particular family. He looked at them carefully, tracing their line back for what he deemed to be seven or eight generations. He ventured into the kitchen to find Anna humming to herself as she prepared dinner. He surmised that Emma had gotten her voice from her mother as well.

"Pardon me, Anna," he said quietly.

She startled, and then laughed. "Sorry, I was in my own little universe. What can I do for ya?"

"Which room will I occupy? I would prefer to meditate before end-meal."

"Of course; up the stairs, left down the hall, last door on your left. The bathroom is the door just before yours. Please let me know if you are in need of anything, ok?" she said softly.

"Affirmative," he said quietly, and left. She watched him walk away. How charming, she thought.

He followed her instructions to his quarters, finding his bags, towels set out, and an assortment of Terran and Vulcan tea available for him. He activated the electric teapot and selected _theris-masu_.

In her room, Emma smiled as the scent of his favorite herbal tea wafted across the hall.

***

Dinner with the McLeod family was an experience, to be sure. Sarek was settled comfortably in discussions of diplomacy and interstellar policies with Will and Ken. They were in the midst of discussing the Betazed admission of 2273 when Ken's youngest child, Jenny, came bursting in the door. Sarek paused to read the message on her shirt: 'math is hard'. He found that to be erroneous, as mathematics was of little challenge to him.

She just stood there and stared at him for a moment. No one said anything about a random Vulcan being at dinner. The more Jenny thought about it, there had never been a specific Vulcan at dinner either, but that was beside the point.

"Jenny, I did not raise you in a barn. Go shut that door and behave like a civilized young woman," Ken chided sternly. Looking quite embarrassed, she apologized profusely and closed the door, rejoining the family.

Anna arrived from the kitchen with a plate of food for her. "Jenny, you know dinner was an hour ago. Why are you late, girl? We were worried. You should have called us," Anna said with mild consternation.

Murron spoke up. "Ambassador Sarek, this is our youngest, Jenny." She turned and spoke directly to her daughter. "Jenny, you do still have some manners, correct?"

"Hello, Sir. My name is Jenny, and contrary to popular opinion at present, I do in fact have some good manners. Welcome to Skye," she answered, feeling ashamed.

"I am Sarek, and I thank you," he responded, fascinated by the family's interactions with the wayward teen.

Will spoke up next. "Jenny, answer your aunt, please."

"Yes sir. I went to Portree to the mail distribution center. I was able to convince them to look for any news of my test results." She held up an envelope in her hand. "It finally came, but I had to take the last bus back into Kyleakin. I got here as fast as I could. I apologize for bringing you concern," she finished.

"So," Emma began, "what did the report say?"

"I don't know." Jenny answered.

"Uhm, you didn't open it?" Emma asked.

"I can't…daddy, please read it." Jenny handed the envelope to him.

Ken opened it and began reading, frowning and grumbling to himself. Jenny's arms were propped up on the table and her head was in her hands waiting. Sarek looked at Emma, confusion on his face.

"Jenny took her A-Level examinations to exit her secondary education program. She finished a year early and has been waiting a long time for the results," Emma said.

"I assume these to be very important examinations?" he asked.

"Yes, as they determine where you can go to college, and what you can study," she finished.

Ken cleared his throat and then paused, reading a page for the third time. Jenny groaned quietly. "Ok, Jenny…I cannot tell you how proud I am. You scored in the top two percent. Your scores were 98% in math and chemistry. Your scores in stellar cartography were 99%, and perfect in physics. Well done, my daughter." Ken beamed at her.

The family applauded her efforts. She exhaled heavily and finally began to eat. Sarek's curiosity was piqued about her interest in physics.

"Jenny, may I inquire as to your area of interest in physics?" Sarek asked.

"Astrophysics is what I really enjoy. It makes sense to me, and I want to study it at the university. With scores like that I can go pretty much anywhere I wish," she answered between bites.

"Where will you consider attending?" He asked.

"Well, Cambridge and M.I.T. have the best programs, but from what I have found in my research of Terran schools leaves them, well, somewhat lacking," she replied.

Sarek began to think about her situation, but set those thoughts aside when the meal was interrupted by the buzzing of the comm-unit. Will got up from the table to answer it. He returned a moment later.

"The Chief calls for a gathering in town. Sarek, I will tell you now this will be an emotional experience combined with great consumption of alcohol, so if you choose to stay here, it is no insult to us. However, I think you might find it very interesting. The McLeod Clan has inhabited this Island for more than 1,400 years. We enjoy 'getting our pride on', so to speak," Will said.

"I am honored by your invitation. Will this gathering take place indoors?"

"Yes and no. We usually walk to the pub, and it gets chilly at night, so you may need your robes."

***

The two mile walk to town had been refreshing. He watched her interactions with her family as he continued to talk with her father and uncle. One moment, he looked over to watch her and caught her observing him intently. She then offered that particular smile she gave to no others, and looked away as her cheeks flushed brightly.

Sarek noted how the group of people kept increasing in size at each street corner and turn in the road, and by the time they arrived, nearly three hundred people were outside on the deck of the pub, looking over the strait.

He saw all the men wore traditional clothing, their pleated kilts, sporrans, dirks sheathed against their legs. Their hair was often long and that which was unbraided blew gently in the breeze. They were a strong, stocky group of people, hardened by many generations of existence where the elements could take life in a matter of minutes. They bundled in their plaids, talking and laughing together.

As Will and Ken's families approached, the group became quiet and parted to reveal an older, weathered man. Sarek presumed he was the clan chief as his ensemble was more heavily adorned, and people's interactions with him were reserved and respectful.

The man approached Ken and Will, and they submitted to his authority, acknowledging him simply as 'Chief'. He stood in front of Emma and smiled at her. She bowed her head respectfully to him. He gently patted her left cheek with his palm. He looked at Sarek for a moment, and then approached him. Although his age was evident, his physical demeanor was no less commanding. Sarek was shorter than he by two inches, and weighed what he estimated to be at least 60 pounds less.

"You are Vulcan. Are you their ambassador?" the Chief asked politely.

"Yes. I am Sarek, son of Skon, son of Solkar," he answered courteously, saluting the man with the _ta'al_. "I come to serve."

The Chief outstretched a well-used and strong hand, offering a handshake; either not knowing Vulcans did not shake hands, or testing Sarek to see if he would do it. Without missing a step, Sarek accepted it, and released as quickly as was politely possible to do so. As much as he would prefer not to touch others, he deemed this to be a moment important enough to warrant personal discomfort.

The sensation he received from the physical contact told him the Chief was intensely curious, and ignorant of the Vulcan taboo. His intentions were pure.

"I am Leathan, 34th chief of clan McLeod. Welcome to Skye, Sarek, son of Skon, son of Solkar. What is ours is yours; it is the 'Skyeland' way," he said, and looked Sarek dead in the eyes for a short moment, estimating his stoic nature to be normal for his people. He then turned and entered the pub without another word.

Sarek found the encounter quite interesting. Surak's wisdom ignited in his head. '_Shiyau thol'es k'thorai ri k'ahm_': nobility lies in action, not in name.

They all filed in behind him and Sarek chose a table opposite the musicians, as it was likely to be quietest. She went to the bar and after a few shots of whiskey she returned to Sarek, slightly red-nosed and carrying two fresh-draught pints. Her accent had grown heavy under the influence of the local spirits.

"Here you are. Since you're the ambassador, you must certainly recognize and endorse cultural exchange and mutual understanding, right?" she asked, winking at him.

It became deafeningly quiet. He surveyed the gathered folks watching him. He nodded and, albeit reluctantly, accepted what appeared to be the most opaque beverage he had ever seen. It looked like used engine lubricant from a poorly maintained flitter. He did not understand how anyone would want to drink something with that appearance.

"Ever had stout?" she asked, leaning toward him a bit, with a twinkle in her eye.

He thought he heard the tiniest slur of words. People eyed him with smiles and unconcealed laughter as he sniffed the glass and his nose crinkled slightly at the viscous black-brown liquid with an odor reminiscent of burned toast. "No, I cannot say that I have," he answered reluctantly.

She gently leaned over his left shoulder and committed a serious invasion of his personal space to whisper in his ear. He was very aware of her perfume, the creamy texture of her skin, the sultry nature of her voice in his ear, and, illogically, he did not mind her being there.

"There is a first time for everything," she teased gently, her lips almost brushing against his skin. His pulse began to race, and his ears flushed green. Then she stood and yelled, "A toast: To Life!"

They cheered and drank heartily, slamming the mugs on the tables when finished. He sampled it and while he found it to be not entirely unpleasant, he chose to err on the side of caution and not consume the glass in one sitting as she and everyone else had.

She sat down with him and the rest of the family, and they talked of life on Skye: trade, commerce, history, and legends. Sarek found himself lost in memory of family gatherings with Amanda's kin. He remembered the cold weather, roaring fires, bonding with the family in meals and conversation.

He drew two conclusions: that while individuals were very different, people of good character were the same throughout the universe, and that Amanda would have been delighted by this evening's events. He felt a twinge of what he identified as guilt for allowing himself to indulge in Emma's overtly intimate communication with him, but that feeling immediately vanished. He knew Amanda would not begrudge him satisfaction in his life after her death.

He turned to speak to Emma and realized she was no longer seated next to him. When scanning the room did not reveal her whereabouts, he stood and excused himself from the table as they were listening to a poignant performance of _Glen Coe._

Donning his outer robes and stepping outside, he suspected she was the dark figure on the deck looking out on the strait. It was silent, save for waves softly lapping the beach and the sounds of life drifting from inside the pub. He stepped up to the railing next to her. As she looked up at the stars, her accent lessened as she began to talk of her childhood.

"I used to lie on the porch at mum and dad's house at night when I was supposed to be asleep. I would take my telescope apart and sneak out the bedroom window. I actually fell off the window ledge one time.

"When I was nine, I could identify every star in each constellation. I still remember when we learned about First Contact in school. Our teacher taught us about Vulcan." She pointed at Eridani. "I remember the first time I located your sun," she reminisced. "I always wanted to see what was out there." She trailed off, not finishing the thought.

He turned to look at her in the moonlight. "Emma, I thank you for inviting me to visit with your family. This has been a most enlightening experience thus far," he said.

She regarded him tenderly. "I am glad it has been satisfying for you. I know my parents have enjoyed meeting you. I do believe my mother thinks you are quite charming, in fact," she said, instantly regretting it.

She reasoned she could very well lose her job for this evening's poor judgment. She tried to find a way to weasel away from him, but his physical proximity made that very difficult.

He looked at her. This could not be left alone, not at all. He intentionally stood closer to her, within her personal space. His scent was heavier than it ever had been, and it made her shiver slightly. He could hear her heart beating faster, her breath deepening, and he knew she found his proximity pleasing. He looked into her eyes and spoke, his baritone rumbling inside his chest.

"Only your mother?" he asked just above a whisper, his eyes never leaving hers. He willed her to read his feelings at that moment, and lowered his shielding.

She was awestruck when he intentionally relaxed to allow her to see his feelings about her: admiration, respect, attraction, desire, and curiosity. She would have never thought he had such intense feelings for her.

"No, not just my mother," she answered him softly. "I…" She trailed off, unable to make herself finish the words.

"You…?" he asked with intense curiosity, taking another step closer to her. His hands were on the railing each side of her. His body inches from hers, he inhaled deeply, closing his eyes and committing the experience to memory. He opened them again and looked into hers. "Speak your mind, Emma," he said.

She stepped toward him slowly and reached a hand out for his. "May I share contact with you, Sarek? I would share my thoughts with you," she said, her hand hovering above his. He looked down at them, and then back to her, granting permission.

Emma gently picked up his left hand and turned his palm upward. She deftly unfastened his sleeve, sliding her hand just inside to lay her downturned right palm on his wrist and forearm.

He felt an unfamiliar tingling sensation pulsate against his radial nerve from his wrist up to his shoulder, and then build quickly into a flash of light and sound in his mind. As she joined his mind, his hand grasped her wrist reflexively. He inhaled sharply and she was there. His eyes were fixed on hers; his mind trying to make sense of this joining of minds…it was unlike any meld he had ever experienced.

//How did you do that?//

//It is the Betazed way. Did I not make myself clear to share my thoughts with you? If that is the case, I will back out immediately. I meant neither harm nor trespass, Sarek.//

//Please, stay…//

//As you wish. I have trouble articulating myself verbally, sometimes. May I be very open and direct with you?//

//At all times, please.//

//Sarek, I am strongly drawn to you: your mind, character, your personality… your body, everything about you. If I thought for a moment you would feel the same way…//

//Please continue.//

//I am prepared to vacate my position at the embassy upon our return. I have not behaved well this evening, and I do not expect to maintain my posting after all this.//

//That would only be necessary if I were to find your behavior unacceptable.//

//Do you?//

//No, I do not. Emma – I experience this same attraction to you as well.//

He was initially concerned by her request to share her thoughts with him, not knowing how well disciplined she was. This telepathic exchange however was quite good.

//Your control of telepathic communication is remarkable. I had anticipated it would be more chaotic.//

//Thank you, that is quite a compliment. Sarek, where does this leave us then? I must have a concrete understanding of how we will interact with each other.//

She felt a flood of warmth permeate her mind, accompanied by deep satisfaction. His soul touched hers gently for a moment. He showed her imagery of them bonding, joining, creating children, and developing their life together. She understood and reciprocated those desires to him.

//Emma, I think it wise to continue this interaction when not in the possibility of the public eye.//

//Agreed. May we complete this later tonight then?//

//Most certainly.//

With that she backed gently out of his mind, a mirror image of how it began: the flash of sound and light was followed by the tingling sensation along his radial nerve back to his wrist, and then dissipated into nothing. He searched for any residual sensation of her mind in his, but there was none.

"Emma, do you sense me in your mind at all?" he asked, confused.

"No. My training precluded the possibility of residual presence when initiated through the Betazoid technique. It is one of the only stark contrasts between it and the Vulcan way. If you initiate a meld in your way, I will allow it to remain. I would quite enjoy that, actually."

"Indeed," he said softy, holding her hand in his, not wanting to let it go. It was strangely unsettling that there was no lingering telepathic contact after such intimate engagement. There was much to learn of her esper-ability.

"How long have we been out here?" she asked.

"Thirty-nine point four minutes," he answered, his eyes set on hers. He was filled with most acceptable sensations: his heart racing, his breathing deep and quick, his physical desire rousing from a long slumber.

"We should return to the gathering. People will start looking if they have not already."

She closed the final, miniscule gap between their bodies and placed her arms around him, and shivered in the breeze coming off the water. He wrapped the fabric of his outer robes around them both and completed the embrace. She looked into his eyes, gently stroked his face with her hand, and he kissed her lips softly, lingering just long enough to taste them.

Inside the pub, Ken and Murron were looking for her, as it was time to celebrate Will and Anna's 40th anniversary. They wanted her to play a traditional fiddle tune for her parents to dance to. Murron stood just outside the door to the pub looking at the two standing at the edge of the deck when Ken walked up behind her, her shawl in hand. He snuggled up and hugged her from behind, placing his chin on her right shoulder.

"Do you see what I am seeing, Love?" she asked him. "'Cause if not, I need to stop drinking…"

"Aye, Murron, I see it. Has she said anything about him to you?"

"No. But it's as plain as the nose on your face to me. They'd make a handsome couple – and some beautiful babies…"

"They would indeed. Sarek is a good man, and he would treat her well."

"You think Will and Anna know, and they're not talking about it?" she asked.

"No, my brother would have said something." Ken wondered about the when, how, where…all the details. Knowing Emma's penchant for privacy, he might never know. He decided to pretend they had not been watching a highly personal smooch fest, and opened the door to the pub, allowing it to shut rather loudly. Sarek and Emma's head snapped toward the slammed door in the distance and then began to walk toward the building. When they arrived at the pub, Murron looked at Emma, who defiantly avoided eye contact.

"Mmm-hmmm," Murron purred just loudly enough for Emma to hear her when she walked by.

***

Returning to their table, they saw the atmosphere transformed. The lights dimmed, the racket of laughter and conversation settling into murmur. Couples sitting with one another; hopeful couples wooing each other as best they could, and Ken approached Emma, whispering into her ear.

She gently placed her hand in Sarek's and leaned softly into his chest, whispering. "I will be back in a moment; you will witness an ancient tradition tonight - watch carefully Sarek, for this is a rare thing to see." Looking into his beautiful eyes momentarily she smiled that particular smile, her hand lingering over his as she stood to join the other musicians.

He watched her begin playing a haunting Irish slide called '_The Gael'_ on a borrowed violin. Complete silence, save three violinists and a hand drum being softly tapped by her cousin Jenny, was accompanied by a motionless, profound reverence for what was taking place.

Will stood from his chair next to Sarek, taking a deep breath, and walking to the center of the room, the silver in his hair and beard shining in the dim light. Then Anna approached him, their eyes locked on one another, speaking softly together.

Sarek watched with intense curiosity as Will placed his right hand firmly against his own chest over his heart, and then reached to her and placed his large hand over her heart. Then she took her hands and cupped his face. She said something to him and he nodded, looking down from her, his shoulders shuddering slightly. When she brought his gaze back to hers, Sarek could see the light reflected in the tears streaming down his face.

All around him, couples watching the exchange embraced one another. As a very pregnant, young woman stood next to Sarek watching them, he offered his chair to her. She smiled and graciously declined, her husband approaching her from behind, nodding acknowledgement to Sarek for his consideration. Then his left arm held her chest back against his softly while his right hand lay gently upon her stomach. Sarek distinctly heard him whisper to her: 'Mhairie, I am grateful for you'.

Anna gently wiped his cheeks dry, and kissed them each in turn. Will raised his hands to her face and drew her to him, kissing her for a long moment. Sarek had seen many different customs in his career, but the ensuing exchange was the most intimate he had ever witnessed.

Will looked deeply into her eyes and they began to dance very slowly together, his arm around her waist, her hand in his. As the music continued, they drew closer to each other. His hand lay against the fall of her hips, the other just under her arm, softly caressing her breast.

She brought her body into his; he shifted his right leg between hers; her arms climbing the height of his back, and clinging to his broad shoulders. His right hand held her tightly to his body as his left hand at her hips brought her into complete contact with him; his head nestled against her neck.

The Chief sat in the chair Will vacated. He quietly whispered to Sarek. "I realize that this kind of 'social dialogue' is not what you would expect. Today is the 40th anniversary of their wedding."

He was unaware his arrival coincided with a time of profound importance in their intimate relationship. "I understand the wedding anniversary is a very important date for humans. May I inquire as to the symbolic gestures they exchanged?" he asked respectfully.

"Certainly. There are three: '_my heart is yours, my mind is yours, my life is yours – each to the end of all things_'." He paused. He once again looked Sarek directly in the eyes. "William has always been very sensitive. Emma takes after him in that way. It's not a bad characteristic to have in a marriage," he said quietly, hoping his message was coming across to Sarek.

Sarek turned his eyes to Emma as she played. Wet with tears, her eyes watched her parents intently. Her gaze then moved to him, softening, followed by that smile again. The Chief watched Sarek's eyes relax slightly, never leaving hers as he nodded respectfully to her. It seemed that Sarek had received his message loud and clear.

***

Late that night, Sarek sat on the front porch Emma had described, imagining her as a rebellious, stargazing nine-year-old. She came around the corner to find him sitting in the dark, waiting for her. She handed him a cup of _theris-masu_, and silently sat on the bench next to him.

He reached gently for her hand, holding it in his, a long period passing as he considered what both Emma and the Chief had said to him during this most fascinating evening, the seductive melody she played cycling through his mind.

{_I am strongly drawn to you – everything about you_…William has always been very sensitive…_you will witness an ancient tradition_…Emma takes after him…_watch_ _carefully_…not a bad characteristic in a marriage…_this is a rare thing…_my heart, _my mind_, my life…_each to the end of all things_…it is the 'Skyeland' way…_Sarek_…}

"Sarek?" she asked a second time, wondering where his mind was at.

"Yes, Emma?" he responded, realizing she had been trying to talk to him. In the darkness, his eyes could see a vulnerability to her that she never revealed to anyone else. She was delicate, quasi-fragile, sensitive.

"If you are still amenable, I would very much like to continue from where we left off," she said, feeling his warmth from his hand.

"As would I." He looked at her, sitting at his right side.

They entered the house to find the downstairs quiet. She turned out the lights and locked the door behind them. In the dark, she felt Sarek quietly reach for her and take her by the hand, leading her up the stairs to his room.

Quietly he doffed his robes and stood before her in a soft blue tunic and grey trousers. She beckoned him to lay with her. They settled themselves comfortably and he raised his hand to her temple, pausing to silently request permission. She nodded to him and he gently placed his fingers to her face. She felt the telepathic energy pulsing through his fingertips as he sought the proper placement for each. They locked into position automatically. He was not prepared for her mind to readily engage his telepathically.

//Emma, please release control of this esper-engagement.//

She relaxed her mind completely and dropped her shielding to allow him control.

//Forgive me, Sarek. I have been in control of my own mind for nearly 23 years. I have not had anyone initiate contact with me beyond my counselors on Betazed.//

//It is understandable. I will bring you no harm.//

She smiled at him, willing herself to keep her hands from his arms. In her mind she talked to herself, acknowledging his desire to bring her no pain. He did not reveal to her that he could hear that thought.

He allowed himself to be surrounded by her thought patterns and feelings. They were most certainly human in nature, but they had been brought under control with many years of practice. It was as if a sub-routine ran in the background, constantly organizing thoughts, maintaining structure. He brushed her consciousness with his for a moment, and he saw images in her long-term memory:

_Before the image assembled in his mind, he heard a child's laughter, wind, and the sounds of running – fast running. The scene burst into his mind's eye brilliantly. She was seven years old. She was at the edge of sharply eroded cliffs, running with other children…playing, laughing…_

_Nights on the front porch with her telescope…nine years of age and the first sighting of Eridani…the excitement that came with that…her wanting to show her father, and then realizing she would be punished for her disobedience…falling twenty-five feet from the window ledge, and being unable to stand for nearly an hour…unable to call for help…_

_Flowers that would appear on her front steps…the boy with the bright, blue eyes and coal black hair…the tender kisses in the fields of heather and green…the love in her heart…_

She shut off the images immediately. He sensed profound anxiety rise in her. He discerned grief welling up from wounds deep, and thought long-healed. He approached her gingerly.

//Emma - please share this with me. I do not understand why you are suffering.//

He sensed her trying to alleviate her worries about what she would reveal to him. But with his request she let it all go. He was not prepared for the intensity of what these experiences had in store.

_The first memory was her wedding day, becoming hand-bound to a fellow 'Skyelander', who had been delivered the same day by the same midwife as she. They had grown up together, and it was clear they were drawn to each other from the beginning. _

//His name was Bruce.//

_He was a tall, husky man with thick, black hair and ocean-blue eyes. Like her, he had a sharp wit and an equally tender smile. Sarek submersed himself in her affection for him – her devotion, dedication, fierce loyalty, protectiveness, faithfulness – and he thought Bruce to have been a very fortunate man._

_She would often find flowers on her front porch…he journeyed to Betazed with her and supported her through her therapy and psi training…he sent her a letter every week while she worked at the Mars Colony, planning surprise visits when could manage the cost of the trip…he worked a second job to buy her the angora scarves she liked, antique music books she collected, and after six years of saving, he purchased her engagement ring and their wedding bands. _

_Her uncle Ken had cashed in numerous favors from his years in the diplomatic corps and managed clearance with Starfleet for Bruce to be at the space dock waiting for her when she returned from Mars. He had asked her to marry him before she disembarked the airlock. He wanted to resolve that before she set foot on terra firma. Forty-five minutes after she had arrived on Skye, their wedding had begun._

_He watched as they were married and experienced their first union: its extraordinarily familiar and foreign sensations. They quickly forgave each other when the situation became too funny to resolve after getting so carried away they had fallen off the bed. Sarek was more than amused at that. They laughed hysterically at each other before trying again._

//Sarek, some things just cannot be taken too seriously.//

//Apparently not.//

_Sarek then became aware of her physical submission to Bruce; allowing him to lay with her and take possession of her body again. He felt her receive him deep within - surrendering herself to him with every thrust. Her hips straining upward against his, she met him with exacting effort. _

"_My love, I have waited for only you," Bruce said as he moved within her, their eyes locked together._

_Through her eyes, Sarek saw him propped up on his arms, heard her pleading with him, his body hovering just above hers, their groans of pleasure becoming more audible. As they reached orgasm together, Bruce whispered in her ear:_

"_Emma, it's always been you I have thought of, that I have wanted, needed - oh my wife, I have always loved you."_

He was surprised she allowed him that memory, thinking it much too private. He felt ashamed for watching this intimate exchange.

//Sarek, suffer no shame. If you would share a life together, I wish you to know of this. It is part of who I am.//

//Understood.//

_He smiled at their joy upon learning very soon after that she was carrying their first child. All the worry, preparation, nurturing feelings she had for the baby growing inside her womb were reminiscent of Amanda's emotions in that time of her life. He watched Emma's belly grow and how she laughed when Bruce would place his glass on it while they were lying in the grass together. _

_She began to develop a primal sense of feminine identity in the concept that she would be able to realize the most basic female act: he felt the pride and happiness that she felt. The last of these images was her looking in the mirror at her very pregnant body after a morning shower, gently caressing her belly, laughing as the baby kicked. He was struck by the loveliness of her appearance in that state. _

_He remembered the many hours spent lying next to Amanda, his hand on her bare stomach, enjoying the glow that accompanied her as she carried Spock within her, treasuring the gift she would soon offer to the House of Surak. While he always held a great appreciation for her beauty, it was never as wondrous as when she was with his child._

//Emma, you were most certainly beautiful.//

//Thank you, Sarek. I did not think so at the time.//

_Then Bruce had contracted Rigellian Influenza from a coworker, and she got it from him. It ravaged her body; causing the sudden, early labor. He felt its extraordinary pain, and he witnessed the premature delivery of their son who could hardly breathe, and fit completely into Bruce's hand. He watched as they desperately did all they could to save the life of the tiny innocent. He could not imagine an_ uzh-keshtu_ so small in his hand. _

//We named him William Bruce.//

_He could see the grimace that accompanied each inhalation, and hear the wheezing with each effort to release breath. Even at Bruce's urging, she would not sleep for the three days after his birth for fear of missing his departure from them. _

_When that time drew near for their child, Bruce knelt next to her and they held their son together, knowing he was not long for this world. Gently, Bruce ran his thumb across the boy's forehead, whispering blessing and comfort to him as he struggled. _

"_My son, oh my son, it'll be not long now. Rest easy, boy – The Lord Himself calls to you," he soothed._

_Only a moment later, an eerie calm settled across the child's face and his body finally relaxed as his suffering had come to an end. Neither Bruce nor Emma had done anything for several minutes, and then he held her tightly in his arms as she clutched the boy to her chest, her grief carrying throughout their home. Bruce never forgave himself for the death of their son._

Sarek physically hurt for her, as his mind went to the moments immediately following their notification of Spock's death. He and Amanda had spent that night in each other's arms grieving the loss of their only child, their son whom they loved. She had been inconsolable, and while his grief was marked out and placed in order within his mind, hers was spilling out, as she poured over Spock's possessions returned from Starfleet.

He remembered seeing her hold Spock's meditation robe tightly, her grief beginning anew as she inhaled her son's scent knowing she would never see him again. This had deeply disturbed him, shaking the very foundations of his logic and emotional control, and all he could do was hold her close to his body and heart, surrounding her spirit with his.

//I was his mother for three days.//

//I assure you that you did not cause his passing.//

//Sarek, I failed him, and he died.//

//No, you did not.//

//Parents should never have to bury their children.//

//No, Emma, they shouldn't.//

_As they buried the boy, he felt the agony that she had endured. Over the next eight months, they began to recover from the tragedy. Sarek felt relief that the memory was over. He did not know another was coming._

_Struck with uncontrollable grief, Sarek then saw Bruce die accidentally at work. Afterward, she was remarkably rational, experiencing many moments of profound grief, and resolving them each in turn with the solace and strength that her faith gave her. _

_She thought of grief as a terrible hurricane; waves of anguish renewed pouring in on her as tremendous tides crash against the beach – but even hurricanes had to lessen. She had chosen to take a greater position than they, and in the end had become profoundly stronger for it._

_While her family had supported her fully in the recovery she was making after her men were torn from her heart, Bruce's family had rejected her as they could not deal with his loss. They left her behind and moved on with their lives. _

//_THAT is not logical behavior_.// Sarek felt anger welling up inside him for their callous disregard and selfish choices, rejecting the commitment they made after accepting her as the wife-of-their-son.

//No, it was not, but it was what it was.//

//I assure you most completely that were I to precede you in death, as my _kiran_ you would be a treasured daughter of our clan, cared for and protected.//

He was incredulous that they had just tossed her aside. He felt her despair at that very moment, and he shared in that grief. //Emma, I would share some of my experiences with you. Will you permit me to do so?//

Shocked that he had not been turned completely off and away from these memories, she quietly said yes.

It was then that he did something he had not since the very moment his bond with Amanda ended at her death: he released all of the grief he had kept inside. Nauseating waves of terror, physical pain, emotional agony and despair - it was stunning, devastating, and all too familiar to her. She could not have conceived of his retaining these feelings for as long as he had.

//I am so, so sorry - _tushah nash-veh, _Sarek.//

Emma watched as he suffered through his first pon farr only to be left by T'Rea at his barest possible point of survival - his anger and sadness, the rejection.

//How do you manage to survive that burning pain? It is unfathomable to me.//

//It is biology; as you say, it is what it is.//

She could sense his shame as he answered her. She tried to soothe him, to no avail. //I would not ever leave you in that, Sarek.//

_Then she saw him discover the unpredictable and lovely young Amanda. How much more beautiful she was in his mind than she already had been in life! She watched their relationship develop, their bonding, witnessed the love that they made, his learning to show love for her even when he could not admit to it. _

_Emma watched her unconditionally receive him with mercy and compassion as his blood burned with intense pain and need. She watched as they endured The Madness together, Amanda's patient resolve to bring him successfully through the most demanding experience they would ever share. Emma also saw them both deriving extreme pleasure from this union._

She had no idea that he had been suffering through these things. She was consumed by the need to comfort him. Instead of fearing his rejection, she was now moved with compassion for this emotional creature sharing her mind.

//This is part of who and what I am.//

//You are precious, Sarek; a pearl far beyond price.//

She felt him hesitate momentarily, considering what she just said.

//Emma, will you bond with me?//

//With all that I am, yes.//

She felt the nature of the meld begin to change and was suddenly filled with a warmth and comfort she had never known before: feelings she would never have thought him to possess. He embraced her soul in his, carefully, as if handling a delicate treasure. She offered the same peace to him, feeling extraordinary satisfaction and joy in her mind.

//My _Aduna_, I am grateful for you.//

He released his hand from her face, and even while the intensity of the contact lessened, she could still hear him in her mind. She opened her eyes and looked into his, and smiled. She reached up to place her hand against his face, leaning in and gently kissed his lips. She rested her forehead against his.

//I grieve with you, Sarek. Sincerely, I do. I have known this pain - it has been an old companion to me for a long time.//

//I thank you. Perhaps we may begin to abandon it for one another now.//

She smiled softly at him and nodded silently. She decided that she could finally take this time with him to gently explore his face with her hands. He held her in his arms while she traced his wiry eyebrows, and caressed his forehead. He closed his eyes, absorbing all of the delightful sensations she was providing for him. She gently ran her fingers over his eyes, stroking those strong, high cheekbones. She explored his ears, lovingly touching their points.

She found herself relishing in his scent. It was strong now, and she openly inhaled it deeply. He sensed her desire for it and held her closer in his arms. He looked into her eyes and kissed her softly, his lips exploring hers, relishing in the beauty of such gentle intimacy.

"Whatever the future holds for us, we will share it together," he whispered into her ear.

***

They lay in each other's arms talking quietly for more than an hour, when they both realized they were in the wrong room at the wrong time. Will and Anna's reverie had evidently not ended at the pub. Sarek and Emma found themselves in an embarrassing situation. "Sarek, let's go across the hall, please," she urged.

"Agreed." He felt quite certain his hosts would have been terrifically embarrassed to know their assumed privacy was non-existent.

He quickly followed her out of the room. They entered her bedroom and embraced in the darkness. He held her in his arms, allowing his bio-control to relax and share his desire for her.

Carefully she pulled his tunic over his head, and held it just so it kept his eyes covered. She leaned in to him and kissed his exposed lips, once. She moved away from them as he searched in the darkness for her mouth. He removed his tunic and looked at her, beginning to undress her slowly and take in the beauty of her body.

He pulled the duvet back, crawled into the bed and beckoned her to him. He looked into her eyes as his hand gently traced random contours on her hip. She shifted herself onto her back and allowed him to nestle a leg between her knees. He kissed her as his hands traversed her body, exploring it for the first time.

She had begun to play with his chest hair and was feeling both confident and in complete control of herself until his hand found the joining of her thighs. He paused there, grazing her skin. She sighed quietly as he knelt there, his hands exploring her further. Moving beyond a point where she could speak articulately, (and rather than babble senselessly), she opened the sensations she was experiencing to him.

He joined her mind, sharing his own building desire with her. He quickened his pace and intensity, and it was all it took for her to relax enough for the fire to begin radiating outward through her body. His body strained toward hers, his need for their union almost beyond his control, but his mind retained his desire to provide her with satisfaction and resolution before he joined his body with hers.

When he moved slightly faster she cried out softly. She shuddered, her breathing sporadic and deep. He sensed the need to slow his pace and lighten his touch as she came back to him. He finally stopped, and watched her - peaceful, serene, and calm. He took his hand from her face as she opened her eyes, finding him observing her intently.

He kissed her chin as she ran her fingers through his hair. She projected images across their bond of their bodies joined and intertwined, and that was all he needed to sit upright on his knees between her legs. He nestled himself up against her pelvis. She reached between them and gently guided him into her. He slowly moved his hips closer to her and settled himself down as her legs relaxed over his thighs.

As he moved within her quiet moans escaped him, maintaining a pleasing rhythm for them both. She groaned as he pushed against her, sending pleasure through her body. He began moving faster, maintaining control until she was right with him.

She said his name softly, and he growled deeply, his thrusts quickening. His groin coiled tighter and the sensation overtook him, releasing deep within, flame spreading throughout her body as they shared each other's pleasure. He lay down behind her, molding his body to hers and fell into a heavy, sated sleep.

***

_His eyesight momentarily unfocused, Sarek could not understand how he found himself in the family room of his home in Shi-Kahr. He heard the sound of her laughter in the garden and walked out the patio to see her kneeling next to the red-headed toddler. The tiny girl was delicate, with dark black-brown eyes and an eager fascination to explore everything around her. _

_Emma was showing her the desert plants. She squealed with delight when handed a small yellow flower, and at that moment the tiny girl looked directly into his eyes, and smiled that unique, private smile. Exclaiming "_a'nirih_!" the little girl ran to him with her arms up-stretched, in that universal request to be picked up. He obliged her and raised her to him. She kissed him on the cheek and gave him the flower. He thanked her and she snuggled under his chin and patted his chest gently. He closed his eyes and thought himself most blessed._

***

When he opened his eyes again, Sarek squinted, as sunlight filtered in through the curtains. She sighed softly, mumbling something unintelligible, and snuggled up to his back. He gently rolled over and took Emma into his arms, cradling her head on his strong shoulder, marveling in a profound display of bed-head. He tenderly tried to pat it down, and it sprang right back up, sticking out everywhere it should not have. After the third failed attempt to correct the wayward locks, he resigned himself to accepting it as it would be until she could attend to the matter.

He heard shuffling and talking downstairs, Will's voice booming with laughter. Sarek thought it time to rise as it was nearly 0800 hours, and he could smell coffee brewing. Emma shifted in his arms, and stretched very slowly. She opened one eye, then the other, and yawned.

"_Ha'tha ti'lu, Aduna_," he whispered softly to her.

"Good morning, husband," she smiled at him. "What time is it?"

"0800 hours, and I believe the family is already downstairs preparing first-meal. I smell coffee…" he tempted her, as he rose to dress.

She perked up a bit, eyeing his naked body with delight. "Would you like the bathroom first?" she asked, hoping he would say no.

"Yes, thank you. I will be out momentarily," he said, pulling on his night shorts, sitting low on his lean, slender hips. She liked the way they accentuated him, and thought it ironic that what they were intended to cover was rather enhanced by their presence.

"Sarek?"

"Hmm?" he responded softly.

"Thank you for last night. I quite enjoyed being with you," she said, feeling somewhat tingly in places she did not wish to awaken at the moment.

He sat on the edge of the bed and looked into her eyes. "That sentiment is mutual, my wife," he said, kissing her gently.

He rose and as he opened the door, Will was standing there with one hand raised to knock on the door and a cup of coffee for Emma in the other. His jaw dropped open as he looked Sarek over, realizing he was essentially naked with bed-head of his own to manage, and Emma burrowing deep under the blankets in an attempt to will the situation into going away.

//Oh…My…God…//

Nonplussed by neither her mental communication nor his own embarrassment, Sarek greeted him. "Good morning, Will."

He stood there for another moment, and his manners returned to him. "Sarek, good morning. I brought Emma some coffee…kind of a tradition she and I have had," he stammered. "If I had known, I'd have brought you some as well."

"It is of no consequence. I prefer tea, but thank you," he said, gently taking the coffee from him and placing it on her night table. "_T'hy'la_ - coffee." He then returned to the door. "Will, I would speak with you in a few moments," he requested, stepping past her father and into the bathroom.

"You're still standing there, aren't you?" she asked with a muffled voice.

"Umm…"

"That would be a yes," she groaned. "Are you upset?" the muffled voice asked.

"No, not upset…surprised, yes, but not upset. Tell you what Emma, why don't you go use the master bathroom, and that way we can all sit_ together_ for breakfast and what is to surely be the most interesting conversation in this house for many, long years, ok?" he suggested. She shot a thumbs-up from under the duvet.

Will quietly shut the door and walked down the stairs. He passed through the kitchen and out the back door, stopping only to respond to his wife.

"Will, is Emma up yet? Is Sarek up there? I don't know what he wants for breakfast…Will?"

"Oh he is up there, all right. _They_ will be down in a moment."

Anna crinkled her nose and wondered what his problem was.

Emma stood in her parent's shower, and reached out to Sarek over their bond.

//Well, that was fun…//

//It most certainly was not.//

//I was being sarcastic.//

//Ah. My apologies.//

//None are necessary, Sarek--//

Her thoughts were cut off by the sound of wood being chopped with a very aggressively swung axe.

***

She and Sarek walked downstairs together, embracing two fingers. Anna came into the living room looking confused, speaking before she saw them.

"Emma, I don't know what has gotten into your father but…" She stopped midsentence. "Ah. It makes perfect sense now. I will call him for breakfast. Good morning, Sarek." She walked away trying to hide the smile on her face. Murron was right about them.

They all sat quietly at breakfast, the only sounds were the utensils on the plates, cups being placed back into saucers…Emma was grateful for the custom of silence during a meal.

//That is not the reason we observe silence, _Aduna_.//

//It is today, _Adun_.//

He looked at her sharply and then back at his plate, serving himself another slice of tomato. Finally, Will set his fork down and scooted his chair back enough to cross one leg over the other, his eyes on Emma. He pretended them to be phaser beams, boring holes through her forehead. When his imagined attempts to vaporize his daughter failed, he shifted in his chair. He really wasn't angry he just would have preferred to not find out _that_ way. He also did not like the thought that a man seventy years older than he had a better waistline.

"Sarek, you requested to speak earlier. What do you wish to discuss, sir?"

Sarek looked at him, then Anna, and cleared his throat carefully. "Emma and I have chosen to become bonded. We have taken one another as spouses," he said matter-of-factly.

Pretending to speak to Sarek, she directed her comment to her husband. "I see. When did this happen? I don't mean to invade your privacy – and it's not like you are children by any means. You are under no obligation to explain yourselves to us, are they, Will?" she asked him, sternly.

Will looked at his plate quietly, avoiding her glare.

"Mum, we bonded last night. It is a private thing, and will not be spoken of openly," Emma said softly, not making eye contact with them.

"If our actions have brought shame or embarrassment to you both, I ask forgiveness," Sarek said.

Will sat forward and put his forehead in his hands, rubbed his ears a moment and then spoke. "There is nothing to forgive. I will not begrudge my daughter joy in her life, especially after so much sadness and grief has befallen her. Sarek, I know your intentions and motivations are good, and I am glad she chose you. There could've been others, but she always held out after Bruce died."

"Thank you, Will. It satisfies me to know that you are not displeased," Sarek nodded respectfully to him.

"Will and I want for her protection and provision, for her to be happy with her life, however it is and with whom she chooses to share it. If that comes with you, then Sarek, welcome to our family." Anna smiled at him.

***


	3. Acclimatizing to One Another

NEW: "Life After Death", Chapter 3

By: T'Ashalik

Sa/f

Rating: NC-17

Disclaimer: No, Star Trek isn't mine, and no I am not earning a single cent for this…but I am having fun writing it, at least.

A/N: Thank you Selek…as always…beta on, my friend!

Chapter 3

Thursday night, Sarek and Emma took advantage of their time together while her parents traveled to Inverness completing tasks in preparation for the tattoo. They took a long walk together after end-meal and while that was quite satisfying, he got chilled and spent nearly thirty minutes in a very hot shower. After he was comfortable again, he walked through the house searching for his wife. She was in the living room unloading a small basket, stacking several black-brown blocks.

"It is cold outside, why not use the wood already prepared for the fireplace, Emma?"

"Because nothing beats a peat fire, Sarek." She smiled at him, liking the view of him in flannel pajamas. She knelt in front of the hearth. She had brought their bed linens down and created a comfortable pallet for them.

Settling down next to her he spoke. "Emma, I must ask if we are to be concerned by the arrival of visitors or family?"

"_Rai_, _Adun," _she responded, pouring tea for them both.

"No?" he asked, slightly amused at how she would transition between Vulcan and Standard without warning.

"_Rai_. My aunt and uncle are under the impression you and I are traveling to Inverness with Mum and Dad as we speak. Without revealing too much, I convinced Mum that she and Dad need not return before noon. No one outside the family will call on the house if my parents are gone. If they do, we do not answer," she stated, offering a plate with fresh fruit and _kreyla_ to him.

"Logical," he replied.

"I simply wish to spend an uninterrupted evening with my husband," she answered, wiping her chin after biting into a particularly tender piece of globe fruit.

"Emma, I wish to discuss a matter of importance, considering our decision last night," he began.

"I think we have several matters to discuss, personally. Where would you care to begin?" she asked.

"I would begin with your living arrangements." He paused to sip his tea. "You will reside with me – you are my wife. I find it unacceptable to live apart."

"How unconventional." She laughed gently, teasing him. "I will attend to that once we have returned." She found his tone to be commanding and possessive, but in a good way.

Sarek found himself checking her residual presence in his mind occasionally. It was somewhat unsettling to him that she had been able to engage him telepathically and leave no trace before they were bonded.

//I am here, _Adun_. Why does this concern you so?// She sensed his feelings on the matter, and sought to reassure him.

//That experience was foreign to me. I…// He paused in his thought. //I ask forgiveness.//

//There is nothing needing forgiveness. Please continue…//

He nodded graciously to her. //I never experienced intimate telepathic contact that left no trace. It was unfamiliar to me.//

She gently squeezed his hand as he held hers. Her thumb ran delicately across the back of his hand, and she could feel his pulse quicken. She had not known this was an erogenous zone for him, and she stored that juicy tidbit of information away for later.

"Sarek, I think we ought to have a serious conversation about a couple of things." She looked at him and reseated herself. "One of those is something you will not wish to discuss, I fear."

"I presume you mean the onset of my next cycle," he said, looking away from her.

"Yes," she said quietly. "I can sense your desire to postpone this, but we must discuss it." He nodded in agreement, still not meeting her gaze.

She held his hand gently in hers. "Sarek, how long do we have until it comes?"

"The most accurate estimate I can provide is twenty months," he answered softly. "It can – fluctuate – when off the home world."

"Understood. Sarek, I do not wish you to feel ashamed, but I know that no matter what I say or do right now will embarrass you, so let's change the subject. A different topic I would like to address is children."

He finally looked at her. "You desire them as I do," he said. "I have seen this in your thoughts."

"Yes, I do. May I ask a personal question?"

"You are curious about Amanda and my experiences while attempting to conceive," he deduced.

"Well, I am fairly certain I understand the _mechanics_ of how it happened," she chuckled to herself. "What I am curious about specifically is was intervention required?"

"It occurred quite naturally, of that I am certain. However, very careful monitoring of Spock's fetal development had to be maintained to ensure his survival," he answered.

It pleased him to consider the possibility of having children again. He decided they should visit with the healers to consider their options as soon as they returned to the embassy.

He reached his arm to her, inviting her into his embrace. She snuggled over to him as he put his arm around her. Leaning against his chest, she could hear his heart beat faster than hers, and she smiled.

"My heart rate pleases you?" he asked.

"Everything about you pleases me, Sarek," she said with that particular smile, "especially your warmth." She burrowed closer to him and thought it was nice, very nice indeed. Silently, Emma thought to herself how grateful she was to not be disturbed by her parent's '_sex-ploits'_ again.

//I share in that sentiment.//

He gently took the teacup from her and set it with his on the coffee table. Bringing her into his arms, they lay down and undressed one another. His hands trailed slowly over her skin, and he smiled very slightly as she shivered under his touch; his tongue followed his fingers, gently nibbling as he explored, her skin glowing softly in the firelight. She began to shift her body a bit and winced sharply. She rubbed her hand along her spine to relieve the cramping muscle but was unsuccessful in finding relief.

"_T'hy'la_, I will attend to it," he offered gently.

She turned over, grumbling at the discomfort that was growing in the muscles along her spine. Kneeling beside her, he started from her shoulders moving slowly downward, applying just enough pressure to stimulate the circulation in her muscles and elicit several groans of distinct satisfaction.

"Is this too intense, or would you prefer more pressure?" he asked.

"Deeper would be marvelous," she responded, hoping he caught the double entendre.

He was dutifully working to relieve obvious tension along her spine and chose to ignore the risqué remark. He shifted his sitting position, bringing greater kneading pressure on her sacral and lumbar spine and was finally rewarded by the knot in her back relaxing.

He was applying a great deal of pressure and was slightly concerned that it would become unbearable for her. He had not intended the massage alone to be overtly sexual in nature, but quickly realized it had that effect on her. He softened his touch and stroked his fingers along the soft skin of her back.

"How much longer will you ask me to wait?" she asked, her voice softened by his touch. He looked down at her body, glistening with beads of sweat, her breathing deep, her pulse accelerating. She sat up on her knees and turned to look back at him.

//Sarek of Vulcan, did you honestly think you were the only one in this bonding who could read thoughts? Such delightful arrogance...// Her laughter was delicate in her mind.

She leaned back against him, grazing his body with hers. He was stunned that she was able to perceive his thoughts with such clarity. He suddenly realized the vulnerability Amanda must have experienced in the early stages of their marriage as she worked to regain her privacy.

//_K'diwa_, I was incorrect to make such an assumption.// He smiled softly at her in response.

She awoke to the most wonderful situation. Her last memory was of Sarek taking her in a most animalistic fashion, and nearly collapsing on her back in his release. He curled up with her under the duvet as the night air grew colder, and she found him snuggled up against her chest, sleeping soundly.

She glanced up at the family's antique clock to see it was nearly 0300 hours. Turning gently on her side, she stoked the fire and turned her eyes back to his sleeping form. He took a deep breath and sighed softly, his body moving back into hers as she returned to him. She reached her hands out to softly trace his contours. Her hands naturally worked their way down his stomach, exploring his belly, playing in the soft fuzz that ventured southward from his navel. She wanted to continue, but paused, not wishing to wake him.

//_T'hy'la_, please continue…// His thoughts were heavy from his slumber.

"I am sorry I woke you, I should have let you sleep," she said, running her fingers through his hair gently.

"Emma, I would teach you something I find quite satisfying," he said.

She nodded and smiled, her curiosity getting the better of her.

He brought his hand to hers, and she felt a pulsation of energy channeling through their fingertips. Pressing only the index and second fingers together, he gently traced down the back of her fingers and across her hand with his, igniting every nerve ending in her body. She inhaled deeply as he brought his hand back to its starting place. He almost smiled at her response.

She trailed her fingertips over the back of his fingers, lingering for a moment against them, moving slowly in the trough between them. His eyes closed as his breath deepened.

"That is most pleasing," he whispered to her, moving his body closer to hers.

She continued to gently draw her fingers over the back of his hand, tracing the blood vessels one at a time. She could feel his pulse quicken under her fingers. She watched him, the subtle movement of his eyebrows as she explored this new technique.

She reached out with her other hand and delicately traced his ear from the lobe to point, and was rewarded with a distinctly satisfied exhalation. His body responded to her ministrations, and he pressed himself against her, wrapping his arms around her. She kissed the tip of his nose, his cheeks, and chin as he joined their minds together. His thoughts were of them, their coupling, his satisfaction with their bond and the sense of renewal he felt in this most unexpected marriage. Emma wrapped herself in his feelings. It had been many years since she felt this acceptance, this joy – this belonging to something wondrously unique and special. She was thankful for it, and for him.

Straddling his hips, she settled down onto his body gently. His hands found her hips and moved up her back, encouraging her to lie upon his chest as he began to slowly move underneath her. He quietly projected the sheer pleasure he felt from her attention to him, permeating her mind like early morning sun burning through a slow, thick fog… his presence sure and steady, enveloping hers with all the affection and desire he felt for her. One gentle motion found her beneath him, and as his efforts increased, their ascent intensified. She projected her emotions to him: fealty, submission, protectiveness - desire. They moved in concert, a confident and satisfying rhythm between them.

_His nictitating membranes instinctively shut as his eyes adjusted to the brightness of Nevasa. Sarek and Emma stood quietly with the other families as they all waited for the children to appear out of the desert. Sarek thought of their conversation over the past days._

_"I realize it's a rite of passage, but he is my son, and I don't want him harmed," she said with tears in her eyes._

_"My wife, I know why this troubles you, and he will likely return. Like his mother, he is strong, tenacious, and resourceful."_

_He recognized the way she was staring at him and decided it might be a good time to stop talking. They did not disagree often, but when she was set on her argument, he would often have to wait her out until she was willing to 'renegotiate terms'. It was mildly frustrating to him, but she had understandable trepidation about the _kahs'wan_._

_"LIKELY?" she said loudly, almost mocking his voice, then turned and stormed out of the room. She had already lost one son, and was not about to lose another, but she could not do anything about it. Conceiving, carrying, and delivering that boy had been so difficult…_

_He followed her to their shared office, only to find she had shut the door. He knocked quietly._

_"I do not want to talk right now."_

_"_T'hy'la_, I do not intend to talk. May I enter?"_

_There was no response. He felt her anger, helplessness, and grief. She opened the door and stood there, tears streaming down her face. He stepped toward her and reached his hand out to her, and when she did not take it, he beckoned her to him. He held her against his chest and kissed the top of her head. She was not normally given to responses like this._

_"_Aduna…_"_

_"You said you were not here to talk, Sarek. I am feeling irrational and illogical and I am wallowing in it…take it or leave it," she protested._

_"Understood." Deciding silence was the best option, he simply held her._

_Their son had chosen the shorter and more dangerous route and was expected midday. As they stood waiting she was very careful to shield her thoughts, lest she commit a giant social faux pas. He sensed her efforts and extended comfort over their bond. _

_The Adjudicator announced that some were seen in the far distance. It was at that moment that the children began to come into view, and the waiting families saw him… but Emma recognized her boy simply from his hair._

_Their son was indeed returning to them, and while the other children were walking in, he was leading them at a dead run. Sarek inwardly smiled to himself: the boy never slowed down - he was always running. _

_They had recognized the necessity for aggressive athletic training for him from a very young age as it was the only way his energy could be brought under control. The other parents simply looked at Sarek and Emma, and then back at the boy, now only a short distance from them. He stopped to catch his breath and compose himself, straightening his posture, greeting his family formally._

Sarek's eyes snapped open and he quickly surveyed their nest in the living room: with her snuggled tightly against his chest. He recognized the dream for what it was, and stored it away for mediation, wrapped his arms around her and falling back to sleep.

He woke to the sounds of the fire crackling softly, its warmth welcome in the early morning air. The sun was just beginning to break the horizon, and he rolled to his left side to hold her, only to find her gone. He sat upright and listened, hearing the creaking of floorboards above him. Moments later she came out of the bedroom dressed and ready for the day and stood in the hallway, smelling coffee – Jamaican Blue. Unable to deny herself, she headed downstairs.

"First-meal is ready. I have prepared your coffee…" he offered, a cup of coffee in his left hand.

"I couldn't possibly say no to you, especially when coffee is involved." She touched her fingers to his.

The morning quickly slipped into afternoon as preparations were completed for the tattoo. Emma realized that her father's industrious packing ethic had not lost its voracity as he shooed her away from the trunk of the flitter. Their equipment was large, and the space was small. Sarek stood next to her and watched as she and her father haggled over how things ought to be packed for the journey to Dunvegan. This interaction between did not appear to be going well.

"Dad, it's not like we are refugees fleeing our war-torn homeland. I have to bring these things, seriously."

"Well, you have too much here. Your mother already gave your uniform and regalia to Matthew. Why are you bringing all this? It's too much, Emma, honestly. You need to learn how to think of the others," he said, rather abruptly.

Sarek found this to be an odd statement, as he had not seen Emma ever inconsiderate of others. He began going over the packing list of his clothing, and decided he could consolidate her bag with his if need be. He began to offer the suggestion, but stopped as the discussion became more heated.

"That was both polite and thoughtfully said," she retorted to her father, and waited. She wondered what his problem was.

"You have not answered me, daughter."

"No sir, I have not. I am waiting for a reasonable question." She stood back a bit and crossed her arms. Sarek had mediated enough disputes to recognize an impasse forming when he saw one.

Will stopped and turned to look at her directly, obviously irritated with her. "Ok, here is my question: Emma, dearest, why do you feel the need to bring everything in the house to the castle grounds today, when we do not have enough room?" He just looked at her.

Sarek saw her body language and realized they were not going to solve the problem this way. He decided a carefully calculated question might be helpful. //Emma, are each of these things necessary for your rehearsals before the tattoo?//

She just turned and flashed very angry eyes at him, but did not respond. He thought perhaps he should not have asked. It was the very first time he was inclined to be quiet based solely upon a look he received from another person.

//Don't take sides, Sarek. He is being rather impolite at the moment, and I don't care for the way he is communicating with me. I do not know which items mum took over to Mr. Buchanan, and I will not be the one whose uniform is incomplete.//

//I did not intend to 'take sides', Emma. I am attempting to assist you in completing preparations for departure. We must leave in sixteen minutes if we are to arrive on time.// He could sense her aggravation beginning to focus on him.

//Ok, then what do you suggest? I am hoping you have something more _logical_ in mind than me.//

//What do you have in mind?//

//Currently, I am considering pushing him down and then running away.//

Sarek just stared at her, his right eyebrow rising. He'd never seen her so angry and was not certain he wished to again. He turned, hearing Anna coming outside looking rather unsatisfied with the vehicle still not being packed. He met her on the porch.

"Anna, I would speak with you." He directed them to the side.

"Are they having a stand-off?" she asked, sounding mildly irritated.

"Yes, but I believe I know why. Emma is unsure of exactly which items you delivered to the tailor, and does not wish her uniform to be improperly assembled. I deduce that Will does not understand her concerns, and they are both refusing to confer with one another."

She shook her head in frustrated disbelief. "This is normal; it's actually a family traveling tradition. Sarek, are you certain you knew what you were doing when you bonded with her?" Anna asked teasingly.

"Most certain."

Anna smiled at him sweetly. "So, I have a solution in mind for this problem. We have to leave in about ten minutes or we'll be late. I have a list of the items in question. Perhaps we should give it to them?"

"Quite logical."

They walked back to the flitter, the impassioned disagreement still taking place. Anna pulled the list out of her back pocket and tried to get their attention. Sarek began to grow concerned, as he sensed Emma's frustration and anger was growing.

"Will…" Anna said, trying to get his attention, and not succeeding.

"Dad, I am not bringing too much…" she said, abruptly interrupted by her father.

"Yes, you are, _girl,_" he snapped at her.

"_Don't_ call me that - "

"Emma…" Anna tried her this time.

Sarek watched and was amazed at how neither was listening to the other. This had grown beyond a simple misunderstanding, and he was concerned for the outcome. He walked to her left side and stood by her.

"Laureate or no, _you are still my daughter_, and I'll call ya what I will," he barked, pointing an aggressive finger in her direction.

Seeing genuine anger overcome Will's normally calm demeanor, Sarek stepped in front of her left side and gently placed his hand on her arm as the situation escalated quickly.

"Daddy, stop interrupting me and listen, please! You are not being reasonable…"

"_You'll not overstep your bounds in my home and correct me - do not tell me to be quiet, child!_" he boomed at her, walking briskly to where she stood.

Will's sudden and unexpected turn of emotion drew concern for her physical safety and Sarek moved in front of his _aduna_ protectively. Emma backed up from her father a few steps as her eyes were swelling with tears, hurt by the words they exchanged, and embarrassed by the whole situation. She turned and walked away, not wishing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

Anna intervened, placing her hand on Will's chest and speaking very softly to him. "William Nathaniel, that is quite enough. You have embarrassed your daughter, and you are about to do the same to your wife. Now, be silent and listen to what she is trying to tell you. You've not heard her yet." She paused, waiting for him to regain his composure. "You are too busy listening to yourself right now."

"Darling, she is not being reasonable," he said softly, not meeting Anna's gaze.

"Don't call me that, Will, not right now. She has been trying to talk with you rationally. You provoked her – and intentionally at that," she observed.

Sarek walked after her, finding her leaning against an ancient oak tree. He approached her. "Emma?" he asked.

"I am very sorry you had to see that. He's not spoken to me like that in many years. It was," she paused to take a deep breath, "quite embarrassing."

Choosing to move beyond what had just happened, he addressed her with his solution to the immediate problem of their overdue departure.

"Your mother made a precise list of each item given the tailor." He approached her gently and placed his hand on her shoulder, turning her to him, and touched two fingers to hers. "I do not know all the facts, but I surmise there are details of which we know not. I would not assume that your father's behavior is normal." He thought for a moment. "Is it?" he asked.

"No. He is actually very even-tempered, and I don't know what to make of this. He's been out of sorts since they came back from Inverness today."

"At this rate we will be late to your rehearsal. I suggest we take the shuttle to Dunvegan in order to arrive on time. I will ask you to repack based upon the list while I retrieve the shuttle. I will return momentarily."

Sarek returned to the front of the house and found Will and Anna sitting on the front porch. As he looked at Will, he wondered what could have set his emotional state in motion as it had been.

"My calculations determine our arrival to be 26 minutes past deadline if we take the flitter. I will pilot the shuttle to the castle grounds. Will, would you please take me to the landing pad in Kyleakin?"

"Yes, of course," Will answered him quietly.

The men departed in silence, and Anna went to find her daughter. Emma was already repacking her materials to prepare for their now rescheduled departure. Anna followed the sounds of a stuffy nose.

"How can I help you, sweetheart?"

"I have it nearly finished. Thanks for the list; I did not know you made one. This helps," Emma answered quietly, unable to look at her mother.

Anna knew Emma and Will had not had words like that in more than twenty years. "You ok?"

"Yeah. He has not spoken to me like that since just before we left for Betazed. I don't know what I did to provoke him," Emma replied. She hesitated a moment, sensing her mother's unspoken tension. "What is wrong with Daddy?" she asked.

She was hesitant to answer her daughter, and chose her words very carefully. "He just has a lot on his mind right now, love. He will talk about it when he is ready," Anna answered her.

Emma nodded quietly.

Moments later, the shuttle landed in the street in front of the old house.

As they walked up to the castle, Sarek recalled the information he found as he researched it. Dunvegan had been in the possession of the McLeod clan for nearly one thousand years, and had never been overrun by an aggressor. Accompanied by lovely gardens and a stunning landscape, he could understand its appeal to visitors. Set in front of the mountains known as McLeod's Tabletops, it was both an imposing and aesthetically appealing place. He would certainly request a tour. Thoughts of his brother Silek surfaced in his mind, and Sarek decided he would have found this place to be most fascinating.

They were ushered behind a cordon that separated the visitors from the guard and Matthew Buchanan, the clan's uniform tailor, appeared as if from thin air.

"Hello Will, Anna! Safe journey I trust?"

"Yes Matthew, it was. How is Gwyn?" Will asked.

"She is well, thank you. She sends her regards, and will see you in Edinburgh. Emma, let's take care of these measurements, love."

Emma nodded and followed him to an area out of public view. Sarek began to protest as she stripped down to her athletic undergarments, but then realized there were several men and women in the same state being measured for adjustments as well.

Several of them acknowledged Emma, and curiously watched Sarek. As she stood upon a block, Matthew took her measurements carefully, notating and comparing, commenting as he worked.

"Emma, you have lost two inches from your shoulders…you have dropped one inch from your bust and we don't have the time to alter your ghillie, my dear – oh, its white – can't use it anyway…your vest is too large now, I have a smaller size for you…the kilt hose are cream colored, not white, so I will give you a pair…shoes are black, good."

He measured from her navel to her knees. "Geoff will pleat your kilt to the stripe…we're marching the ancient dress tartan – what color are your flashes?" he asked.

"Cobalt, sir," she answered quickly.

"Aye, excellent…and your sporran?

"Grey horse hair, sir."

"Good…what are we missing? Ah, do you not have a bonnet?"

"No, sir."

Matthew shot off instructions at his assistant, Geoff, who scurried away and moments later returned with a black shirt, a vest, kilt hose, and a Glengarry bonnet, in blue. He immediately began sewing the clan badge to it.

"You may dress now. I have something for ya, by the way." He began to dig through a bag sitting next to Geoff.

She put her t-shirt and shorts back on and waited patiently.

"This, darling girl, is for you." He beamed. Matthew placed a dagger in her hand.

Her jaw dropped as she looked at it. The _sgian dubh_ was an essential part of the uniform and equipment. A fourteen-inch dagger blade was set in a short stock, with a huge emerald mounted on the hilt. The gem had a smooth surface and was set over the clan badge, with the motto 'Hold Fast' clearly visible.

"Matthew, I cannot accept this – this belongs to your son." She tried to hand it back, but he would not accept it.

"David has no desire to maintain the older traditions," he leaned in closer and whispered, "besides, we wanted to give it to you as a bonding gift." His eyes twinkled.

She secretly wondered how information flew around the way it did, and decided it must be the faeries. "Most kind, Matthew, I thank you."

She held it in her hands gingerly. This particular weapon was not a reproduction. It had been used in battle by the McLeods in the 17th century, and spoke silent volumes about the clan's part in centuries-long struggles for independence from England.

Sarek and Anna stood on the side of the practice field near the castle, watching the drill rehearsals begin. Will, Emma, and Ken were lined out and ready with the guard when the familiar whir of a transporter beam initiated behind Sarek. They turned to see a young man who strongly resembled Ken appear with pipes in hand and an apologetic look on his face.

"Hello Aunt Anna!" He hugged her tightly.

"Daniel! We were wondering if you were gonna make it or not. It is wonderful to see you!" Anna said happily.

"We were delayed returning to space dock. I will catch up with ya later…I am late." He smiled at her and then saluted Sarek. "_Dif-tor heh smusma, S'haile_," and then hurried out to his place in the line.

As she watched Daniel trot out to where Ken stood, Anna smiled. "Daniel serves in Starfleet as a medical officer. He is one of a small group of human doctors in the fleet who specialize in Vulcan medicine. Needless to say, we do not see him very often." She paused, and then turned to look at Sarek directly. "We can speak of Daniel another time, Sarek. I wish to speak with you on another matter now, please."

"Certainly."

"Tell you what, why don't we talk a walk in the gardens. I would rather this be a private conversation, if you don't mind?" she requested.

They made their way down an ancient gravel pathway that wound gently through the gardens and found a carved stone bench to sit on. A brook babbled quietly across from them, and the tree trunks covered in moss were leaning over them, eavesdropping on their presumed privacy.

"Sarek, I would like to apologize for what happened at the house this afternoon. Will is, well, he is under a tremendous amount of stress at the moment, and he knows he did not behave well. He feels very embarrassed about it, and I am certain he will speak to you both before you return home."

"It was unexpected," he replied. "Have we done anything to illicit such response?"

"No, you have not," she answered him, and hesitated. "I need to ask your assistance in a rather delicate matter regarding Emma, please." She paused. "A time is coming that will test her ability to cope, Sarek. She will need your strength."

"Elaborate."

Anna took a deep breath and willed herself to say to him what she almost could not admit to herself. "Will is dying, Sarek," she replied.

This was unexpected. "Clarify," he requested, "please."

"He has a malignant brain tumor. It has been treated once already, and we just learned it has returned a second time. We did not go to Inverness to tidy loose ends for the tattoo. We had a doctor's appointment this morning, and learned it has metastasized in his bones."

Sarek immediately began to think of possibilities. "May I suggest a visit to the Vulcan Science Academy? The research facilities have made remarkable advances in the treatment of human illnesses such as these types of cancer."

She smiled in appreciation for his effort. "Sarek, I thank you for such concern, but you should know we have already been to Vulcan, and the treatment was unsuccessful. He will not survive this. It was the reason Will asked Emma to come perform this weekend. The chief arranged for the clan guard to take part in the final night of the tattoo so he could participate in it once more." She pulled a handkerchief from her coat pocket and dried her eyes.

Sarek sat quietly for a moment. "Anna, how may I be of assistance to you?"

"Honestly?" she asked.

He nodded affirmatively.

"Cherish our daughter with all that you are; protect her, provide for her needs, and nurture her. Will is very glad that you and she are together. He has profound respect for you – we both do."

"What of his prognosis?" Sarek asked.

"Well, the healers have given him between eight and fourteen months," she answered softly, watching the brook in front of them babble quietly. "I still am having trouble acknowledging the truth of the situation. My mind knows that my husband will die soon, but my heart is not accepting the matter. I cannot believe I will lose him in a matter of months.

"I have known Will almost my entire life. We met when we were ten years old, and I could not stand him." She chuckled.

Sarek raised an eyebrow as she continued. The women in this family were remarkably candid.

"He followed me everywhere…I even threw rocks at him to scare him away. He just stood out of range. He grew on me, though. We married when we were eighteen; Emma arrived two years later. All of the best parts of my life involve him.

"It is an odd feeling to remember the very moment he entered my life, and to know I will be there the very moment his soul will depart from me," she whispered softly, hesitating. "I don't like it."

Sarek understood _exactly_ what she meant. He remained silent, not wanting to inhibit her from expressing what was profoundly difficult. In the early years of their marriage, Amanda would often become frustrated with him when she was working through an issue that gave her trouble, because he would attempt to develop a strategy to solve the problem, and in the course of doing so would not provide the one thing she needed the most: for him to simply listen.

"I remember the day that your aide Soran called the house to inform Will and Ken of Dr. Grayson's death. I know you understand, and as emotional an issue as this is, I do not expect you to articulate an emotional response – it's not your nature. But please allow me to tell you that we grieved her death, sincerely," she finished.

After a moment, he responded quietly. "I thank you."

"Please forgive me for this emotional dump. I have not had anyone else to talk to about this. We have not revealed this to anyone but the Chief; he has been instrumental in assisting with travel costs and appointments. He got us to Vulcan."

"I take no offense, Anna. I am honored to shoulder this burden with you. No one should be forced to experience this alone," he said.

She nodded gratefully. "That is enough about me. May I ask you a personal question, Sarek?"

"Yes."

"Have the two of you discussed having children?"

"Yes, we have. It is a desire we both share."

She nodded approvingly. "I'll not inquire further about that. I would ask on another topic, though, if you will indulge my curiosity?"

"Certainly."

"I am certain you will eventually be recalled to Vulcan. You have to go home sometime, right?"

"Correct."

"Do you have any idea when that might be? I only ask because Will's concerns in that regard were a mitigating factor in his loss of temper today. He thinks he'll never see her again. I do not mean to make excuse for his bad behavior, merely to offer _marginal enlightenment_, if you will."

"While I do not know of any immediate need to return to my home world, I can say with confidence that we will remain planet-side for approximately twelve months. Emma's work with the Cultural Interchange Directives essentially will determine when we leave."

Footsteps on the gravel pathway interrupted their conversation as Leathan came around the corner and found them.

"Hello Anna, Sarek. Have I interrupted anything too serious?" he asked.

"No, Chief, we actually were returning to the practice," she answered for them.

"I see. How did the appointment go this morning?"

She shook her head. "It's not looking good," she answered quietly.

"Ok. You'll keep me informed of your needs then?" he asked of her.

"Yes, of course."

The short flight back from Dunvegan was astoundingly quiet. Sarek checked the autopilot and turned to see Will, sitting sideways in his chair, soundly asleep. Sarek observed that he did not look well: he was noticeably tired, his color was not right, and at fifty-eight, he should not be that exhausted.

Anna looked tired and worried, like a person who felt compelled to keep things together for the sake of everyone around her. He was concerned that she was not looking after her own needs while she was dealing with Will's illness. She met his gaze, and then smiled at him, turning her attention to her husband. She covered him with his jacket and made certain he was comfortable.

Emma was looking out the shuttle window at the landscape that rose and fell beneath them, the sun descending farther below the horizon. The mountains became coal black with a golden outline accompanied by striking pinks, oranges, and blues in the twilight sky casting an eerie light on her face.

He knew that she and her father had not spoken since the argument that afternoon, and it concerned him that they were not communicating. He decided silence would be the best option, and reached two fingers out to hers. He was surprised when she spoke.

//I ask your forgiveness for the situation today. I embarrassed you.//

//Forgiveness is granted, _aduna_, but I prefer not to revisit that exchange, for it was not I who has felt embarrassment today, my wife.//

She was ashamed of herself. Regardless of her father's choices, she knew she alone was responsible for her actions. With her it was always that impulse to respond, to equalize a perceived injustice, to speak out when insulted, that got her into trouble.

Sarek silently listened to her thinking through the events of that afternoon. He hesitated a moment and then responded. //Emma, it is in the past. If you feel compelled to 'make it up to me', then please resume communications with your father. This silence is unhealthy.//

She looked at him for a long moment, and then nodded silently.

Once the shuttle was properly secured and the family back home, Emma made a pot of coffee and went looking for her father. She looked through the living room window and saw him on the porch, sitting alone, and her reading of his emotions told her he was not feeling well. She grabbed two mugs, the coffee pot, and set out for the porch.

Will was bundled up in a blanket, sitting in his favorite swing. He heard the front door open and close, and footsteps approaching. Thinking it was his wife he spoke, trying to sound seductive and charming. "Come and sit with me, young lady. I have a blanket, a swing, and I am wearing my sassy pants tonight…" He was interrupted by Emma mid-sentence.

"I don't think I want to share _that_ blanket with my own father. How about a cup of coffee instead. Truce?" she offered.

"Oh my…I thought you were your mother," he said, swimming in the awkward silence. "She has not forgiven today yet, evidently." He scooted over and patted the swing. She handed him a steaming cup of coffee, and then sat with him.

Sarek had just walked into their bedroom to close the window when he heard their conversation beginning. He paused for a moment, and wondered what 'sassy pants' were. He decided he would ask Emma at a later time.

"So…you are feeling better tonight? Compared to what?" she asked.

He was very quiet, not expecting to have this conversation at this particular moment. "Emma, I really don't think it wise to go into this right now."

Anna awoke to hear voices outside, and not realizing they were her husband and daughter, opened her window, eavesdropping on their conversation.

"Dad, I know something is up. I can read you. I don't wish another day like today again. I would very much like to put it behind us. I will ask your forgiveness for my disrespect."

"I acted like an ass today. There are plenty of reasons, but none of them justify me belittling you, especially in front of him. I am sorry, Emma." He took a long sip of his coffee. "Well, no point in puttin' it off then. Telling you 'no' has never really been a plausible option anyway. You have always been the 'queen of the option not offered', you know that, right?" he asked, teasingly.

"Yeah, I know. It's a genetic trait, actually…paternal genes…"

Hearing their laughter, Sarek quietly closed the window and left them to their conversation. He got into bed, waiting for her to join him.

Anna decided the day was forgiven. She would not waste another moment being angry with him; they were too few and precious.

One hour and forty-nine minutes later, Sarek awoke to hearing two sets of footsteps coming up the stairs. He quietly rolled to the other side of the bed, leaving a very warm spot for her to crawl into.

The door opened quietly and she tip-toed into the darkness of the room. She stood for a moment letting her eyes adjust, and then made her way to the bed. After she undressed, she got in and carefully snuggled down into a delicious warm spot, trying to not wake him.

He lay still listening for any indication she might need to talk. While he sensed her over their bond, her thoughts were very quiet for a moment. Her back was to him, and he watched her reach to the nightstand for a tissue. She began to cry softly, and he listened to her thoughts as she reasoned out what was going to happen to her father. All he could do was slide up behind her and hold her in his arms. She turned on her left side and laid her head on his shoulder.

"_T'hy'la_, what you are thinking?" he whispered into her ear.

"I have no words for this."

"Were you able to rectify the disagreement?" he asked. It seemed like a reasonable place to start, even if he already knew the answer.

"Yes." She hesitated, trying to stifle her tears. "_Adun_?"

"_Ha, K'diwa_?"

"_Dungi tev-tor A'nirih nash-veh_…My father is dying…and soon," she exhaled quietly. She could not accept that her father was dying.

"Yes, Beloved, he will," he responded. As she poured her heart out, and he simply held her in his arms and listened, knowing that no solution could be found for this.

_The wind was rushing in her ears so loudly it was painful, but when she cupped her hands over them, she could not hear him anymore. Emma strained to see in the swirling darkness, but could not completely focus… there – she finally saw him ahead of her._

_Will smiled and waved, and she began to walk as she waved back. He was trying to tell her something, but that damned wind was howling around her. She stopped for a moment and realized that she was not making any progress toward him and began to jog in his direction._

Sarek awoke to Emma's movements as she experienced a rather animated dream.

_She could see him and she picked up her pace to catch up, but as she arrived to where he was a violent gust of wind caused her to stumble, its deafening roar growing louder._

Her body jerked hard, and she grunted as if she had fallen down.

_As she regained her footing, he was farther away, and she set out at a dead run to him. He was encouraging her to catch up but no matter how hard she tried she could not quite reach him, and she stopped to catch her breath a moment._

The sensations he received over their bond from her were fear, building anxiety, and worry. She was breathing hard, her chest rising and falling sharply.

_"Emma," her father shouted loudly over the gale, "I cannot wait too much longer!" His voice was again silenced by the wind._

Her eye movement rapid, she mumbled repeatedly, her voice occasionally elevating to a near-shout, but Sarek could not make out what she was saying.

_She looked at Will and rubbed her eyes, as his body appeared to ripple where he stood. He was mouthing words to her, but his voice was blotted out by that infernal wind. She squinted to make her eyes focus, but he was fading… she sprinted toward him, her hands reaching out to grasp him, and as she approached, Will began to physically dissolve in front of her... she snatched at his hands._

He watched her right arm reach out, her fingertips grasping the sheets of the bed.

_For a split-second she caught Will's fingertips with hers. He smiled at her, his eyes full of life – and to her horror, they faded from white to grey to black as his life left his body. His form blew away from her as sand in a storm, and she was alone in the swirling blackness - no one… nothing… nowhere._

He waited until it appeared that the nightmare was over, she was lying still and her breathing finally calming. He spooned up behind her, drawing her body as close to him as he could. He gently wiped tears from her cheeks, and then softly placed his hand on the psi points at her temple, projecting calm and tranquility to her sleeping mind. Sarek stayed awake and watched over her until he was confident she was resting peacefully again.

His eyes opened at precisely 0600 hours. As he watched over her after the nightmare, he decided he would wake earlier and spend a few moments with her before she had to rise in preparations for the journey to Edinburgh. He stretched gently and then rolled to his right only to find her already up and out of the room. He rose and dressed himself, hearing life stirring in the kitchen, and Anna was humming again. He ventured through the living room smelling _theris-masu_ brewing.

"Good morning, Sarek." She smiled at him. "Emma told me this is your preferred tea blend. How do you take it?"

"As it is, thank you." He nodded appreciatively as she handed him the hot cup of tea. "Have you seen Emma this morning?" he asked.

"I meant to tell you – she went out for a run. She said something about needing to work off a bad dream."

"I was awakened by her experiencing a nightmare, but it dissipated quickly."

"Will told me they talked last night. I am glad for that," she replied.

"Agreed." He paused a moment. "Anna, may I ask a personal query?" He approached her gently, not wanting to offend.

"Certainly. You can ask me anything you wish, Sarek. You are family now, you know," she teased lightly.

He nodded in acknowledgement. "Is there anything we can do for you? Caring for Will cannot be an easy task now, and it will only increase in its challenge as time progresses. I am… concerned that you do not have enough assistance."

She looked down at the floor for a moment, thinking carefully. "Sarek, at present, I think things are relatively under control. May I have a rain check?" she asked.

"What is a 'rain check?'" he asked.

She laughed, and then answered him. "That means 'may I save your offer for later, please'?"

"Ah yes, most certainly."

With the equipment stowed and passengers securely aboard, the shuttle lifted off and Sarek set course for Edinburgh. Once in the flight line, he began to think about the previous day's practice. He had witnessed military and political pageantry many times over in his career, but not with the intensity he observed amongst her clansmen. They had rehearsed with an ever-vigilant effort, repeating maneuvers until they were perfect again and again. It was too military to have been simply for historical sake. His curiosity was piqued.

"Emma, I would ask a personal query," he said softly.

"You can always ask me anything, Sarek, you don't need to request permission first, you know." She smiled at him gently. He nodded in acknowledgement.

"I understand the symbolic importance of the tattoo; however, I deduce that there is much more in this than simply playing percussion cadences and marching in time for the sake of what you would deem 'clan pride'. Is there more to this performance for your clan than its mere representation?" he asked.

She paused a moment, and then answered him. "My countrymen were spared the horrors of the eugenics wars; by virtue of simple geography we were largely left out of the picture because of what others considered to be a lack of natural, exploitable resources. But it's not an issue of the wars themselves that were so devastating."

"Elaborate, _aduna_."

"Well, we are just far enough away from large-scale civilization that we were largely ignored, even by our own government. After the initial attacks upon London, Manchester, and other cities, we were forgotten, and military protection was drawn to those areas. We were left to fend for ourselves, as there was no strategic advantage in protecting sheep and a lot of rocks.

"Once the wars were over, the bombing and violent fighting was more or less finished, it became evident how widespread the devastation was. Millions of lives were lost; financial losses were in the trillions. It's a miracle we, as a species, survived it at all. But that is the issue: the survivors. So much of the landscape that had been attacked was uninhabitable for so long, and people - women, children, babies – they were starving to death. They were riddled with disease, and easily exploited by those who were not.

"Eventually, word spread that the islands in various places around the world, at least, had a modicum of civilized communities on them, and people began arriving in handcrafted boats, trying to fly in...it was a disastrous strain upon the distribution of natural resource wealth we had established here," she finished as she laced her shoes securely.

"Indeed? What were the issues that arose with the arrival of the refugees?" he asked, holding her drumsticks across his lap.

"The primary problem was not in the management of the resources actually, it was in the defense of those who were seeking refuge with us. The raiding of our settlements was aggressive, violent, and malicious." She paused momentarily and looked into his eyes, hers troubled by what she would say next. //_Adun_, I must ask your forgiveness for what I am about to share with you; these things were not done out of cruelty, but out of necessity for our survival.//

Sarek realized as she was speaking to him over their bond that Will, Anna, Ken, Murron, and Daniel were watching him very carefully for his response. "Please continue, Emma."

"Our forefathers learned valuable lessons from centuries of fighting for independence from England. They never stopped training for defense of hearth and home. When the post-eugenic aggression began, our men and women bore arms in defense of our freedom once again. No quarter was given to the aggressors.

"It was never an issue of seeking out a fight, but when aggressors arrived, we acted without hesitation in defense of our people regardless of whether they were biologically indigenous, or grafted into our society," she said very quietly.

"We protect what is ours, Sarek. No one has greater or lesser status," Ken said. "The battle tactics were inherited by oral tradition long after historical peace had been achieved."

"The women fought as well," Sarek said quietly, glancing at Emma.

"Oh yes, in fact, it is the origination of the expression 'a woman of Skye fears no man'," Anna added. "They were reputed to be more intimidating in battle than the men," she said with a satisfied smile as his right eyebrow disappeared into his hair.

//Indeed, _aduna_?// Sarek asked as he began the initial descent into Edinburgh.

Emma smiled to herself as she checked her uniform one last time. //You have nothing to fear in me, husband.//

The shuttle landed in Edinburgh at 1700 hours at the castle. As they disembarked, Sarek watched each of the pipe and drum groups assembling and making last minute preparations. He walked with Anna, Jenny, and Murron toward the designated seating areas for the performing ensembles, and as they turned the corner, he marveled at the sight before him: the massed pipes and drums. Three hundred pipers strong, representing each of the clans of the highlands, and the family groups of the lowlands. Observing the many differences in uniforms, he saw the McLeods in their Jacobite accoutrements. Mostly male, the pipers were all a stocky lot, of the same physical breed he had been introduced to at the pub in Kyleakin Wednesday night.

Murron pointed excitedly as the rhythm cadences began. "They are almost ready to begin."

At that moment, the loudest unamplified musical sound he ever experienced began as the massed pipes began to play "_Bengullion_" and enter the performance arena, the audience all around him cheering them as they marched in; each clan and family's banner was being carried by a young boy or girl, accompanied by their chief. The massed drums followed in behind the pipers in a military parade block, and it only took a moment to find her…she was one of only four women on the drum line; and as the pipers moved toward their appointed areas, the drum line centered in the arena playing a percussion fanfare.

"Sarek, the drum line is playing a combination of the McLeod battle cadences. When our warriors went to fight and approached the battlefield, they would begin these cadences far off, so the enemy would hear them coming. It was simply a psychological ploy to frighten their enemies, and many soldiers of the opposing armies would flee. We can only hope that God's mercy was on the souls of those who remained, for most of them did not survive. I do not advocate the death of another, enemy or not, particularly at the hands of my ancestors," Anna said quietly.

"Aye, that is certain, Anna," Murron responded. "Sarek, you may not know this, but so many McLeods gave their lives in battle protecting their families and fighting for Scotland's freedom, that a gathering of chiefs once declared our clan would no longer be obligated to unite in battle because of our heavy casualties."

"I was not aware of this," Sarek answered.

"Most aren't. We were nearly eradicated trying to protect our homeland. When you and Emma visit again, we need to go to the Battlefields at Culloden, Bannockburn, Stirling… there are many places. Our fathers and brothers fell at all of them," Anna said quietly.

Sarek recognized the significance of such losses. As the armies were essentially all male, that left thousands of women and children unguarded, starving, and easy prey to brigands and looters. The battle for independence must have been worthwhile if it meant leaving your wife unprotected – and to a Vulcan, that was a most disturbing thought. He listened as the tattoo drew to a close with the massed pipes and drums reuniting in a rousing performance of "_Scots, Wha Hae" _followed by "_Scotland, The Brave_".

The shuttle flight back to Kyleakin was again silent. The only light inside the craft was cast by the instrument panels, and once the course was set and autopilot confirmed, Sarek allowed himself to relax.

Will and Anna had snuggled up together under his blanket. His physical appearance was as exhausted as the night before. His head rested on her shoulder, and she held him in her arms. Sarek heard him say something quiet to her, but chose to ignore it out of courtesy. Anna kissed the top of his head in response and continued to embrace him.

Daniel had beamed back to his ship immediately after the performance was over, his leave canceled with orders to tend to a viral outbreak on the Terran Colony established on Bringloid V. Ken, Murron, and Jenny stayed in Edinburgh to see him off and then travelled together on a family vacation.

Emma had dozed off in her chair and her blanket had fallen to the floor of the shuttle. Sarek picked it up and placed it gently over her shoulders, securing it over her to keep her warm. She stirred slightly, shifting in her seat.

Shortly after, they arrived at the family home, and Emma remained with Sarek in the craft as Anna and Will disembarked. As she drove them home from the landing pad she rubbed her neck and yawned.

"I am glad that is over with," she said with a chuckle. "Those pipes are loud enough in small groups…but three hundred? Honestly, I don't know how your ears survived that. It was bad enough on the grounds, but you should have heard them trying to tune up before it all started."

He looked at her and allowed her to see a small, private smile. "Emma, I _did_ hear them trying to tune up before it all started. It was… unsettling. That is the most diplomatic answer I can offer."

She laughed at him. "Well said, Sarek. Any Vulcan who would sit through that is a credit to their race, for certain," she teased him.

After a hot shower, a cup of tea, and a goodnight to her parents, Emma made her way to her room. The lights were off, so she entered quietly. The curtains were drawn, and she could not see where she was going. Waiting for her eyes to adjust, she became aware of his presence as he stood next to her. "_Aduna_," he whispered quietly, placing his hands on her shoulders, turning her toward him.

She smiled in the darkness and drew herself close to him. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her gently.

"I thank you for making it possible to view the tattoo this evening. This visit has been," he paused searching for the right word, "most fulfilling, and certainly beyond any expectation," he stated, tracing his fingers over her curved ear.

"You are most welcome," she replied, kissing him back.


	4. Auspicious Beginnings

NEW: Life After Death Chapter 4

By: T'Ashalik

Sa/f, Sp

Rating NC-17

Disclaimer: Not mine...no money…a pity, honestly.

A/N: Sorel and Daniel Corrigan are characters created by Jean Lorrah. Thank you Selek! As always, great betareading.

Sunday, 25 August 2295

She quietly watched her family grow smaller as the craft gained altitude and prepared to enter the flight line to San Francisco. She turned the past days, weeks, and months over in her head… it was a lot to consider. Her thoughts were of him, this consciousness that shared hers now. It was so – different – but so soothing. She was fascinated by the state of his mind while he slept: it was unrestrained. There were no barriers to maintain, no social mores to adhere to.

As they crossed the western coastline of Skye, she looked out the back window and watched until she could not make out any detail. Once the land mass had vanished into the distance, she returned to her seat at his side.

"Sarek?"

"Yes?" he asked.

"Could mum and dad stay with us for a while, say after the winter holidays? I realize that the Embassy is for diplomatic business, but I was thinking that once you and I establish our housekeeping, my apartment would be available, and perfectly suited to accommodate them. I would like to be able to share his remaining time with him, but I do not wish to neglect my duties to you or the initiative," she said softly, not meeting his eyes.

He had been considering this possibility already. "Should the need arise, the embassy staff will treat our family with the highest honor and respect. Yesterday morning, I spoke with your mother about how we could offer assistance to her. She asked for a 'rain check'. Perhaps this would be an opportunity to grant that assistance?"

"Agreed." She sighed quietly and looked ahead at the expansive water beneath them.

"_Aduna_, there are expectations to which you must adhere as we are now bonded. You are my wife, and my primary duty is to protect you. Therefore, when we are anywhere outside the embassy, I will precede you."

She nodded quietly to him.

"Additionally, you will speak with T'Lyra and T'Pola regarding the selection of robes and attire for various occasions. The embassy tailor has previous experience with the female human form, and will assist you with the necessary alterations. A credit chip will be available to you in the morning. I have already instructed Soran to see to its preparation. You are to use it for all of your expenses, and in the event of any emergencies."

"Understood, and thank you."

"Emma, on the occasions our schedules are compatible, it would be most pleasing if you were to accompany me during my travels," he said in a soft voice.

"I would like that," she said with a sleepy smile, "especially if you were able to accompany me on mine."

Sensing her weariness from an emotionally draining and physically demanding journey, he decided this would be enough for the moment. There was much for her to learn, and ample time in which to learn it. He could feel sleep overtaking her body and mind.

"Emma, rest now. I will wake you once we have returned home."

//Thank you…I really am trying to stay awake…very tired.// She yawned, and fell headlong into a deep sleep.

Their arrival that evening at the embassy was quiet and uneventful. She found herself in an odd place as she realized the staff all knew of their newly-bonded status. It was not blatantly obvious, it was the fractional changes in the way they interacted with her: all granting her the title of _T'sai_, the service staff bowing to her in a way they had not previously.

//How do they know already, Sarek? Did you tell them?//

//_Aduna_, they know because we reserve this form of public intimacy for our bond-mates alone.//

Sarek paired his two fingers to hers, and allowed his warmth and affection to flow through the bond to her. His face was impassive, only his eyes revealed the smallest fraction of what he felt for her. He strode ahead of her toward the embassy entrance, and she dutifully followed behind the Vulcan to whom she now belonged.

Moments later, Emma stood in her new home and decided the best way to settle in would be a hot shower. Jake cheeped at her feet and stood up on his hind legs, reaching toward her for affection. She was rewarded with his motor-like purr as she rubbed his ears and scratched under his chin.

"I missed you, too."

She padded through the apartment quietly and found the tea, brewing enough for both of them. She took her cup to the living room and started the firepot, then stretched out on the sofa. The last thing she thought of was how strong his scent was in the room.

Sarek had never really had prolonged experiences with cats, but he found them to be fascinating and pleasant creatures, especially when they were convinced he could not see them. As he entered their quarters, he smelled the tea she brewed and found the mug she left by the stove.

Although his back was turned, he knew Jake was stalking him from the living room. The tiny bell on his collar barely tinkled and revealed his location. He poured his tea and found a small piece of paper, crumpling it into a dense wad as he had seen Emma do the previous Tuesday evening. "My friend, this paper would be a much more viable and satisfying target than I," Sarek said as he flicked the paper wad into the dining room.

A tiny growling was accompanied by a black and white flash through the air that snatched the paper wad into deadly paws. Jake rolled across the floor and lay on his side, biting and kicking, and when satisfied it was subdued and compliant, he ran away with it.

As Sarek removed his boots and hung his robe, he thought about the previous days, and began to assemble a list of items that would require attention, and at the top of that list was notifying the House of Surak of its newest member. As he was thinking through this list of duties, the com-unit chimed softly. He answered it and was greeted by the image of his son, Spock.

"Computer, playback current message."

Dif-tor heh smusma, Sa-mehk. _I wish to inform you that I have received orders to bring the Intrepid II in for crew rotations. I would like to inquire as to your availability during that time. Provided there are no emergent situations requiring our service, I anticipate our arrival in six weeks. Please advise me of your availability._

Sarek made a mental note to write a reply to Spock in the morning. Before he departed their private office, he picked up a holopic base and after a moment's hesitation, activated it. In the darkness, the colors were vivid and bright. Soft, sparkling blue eyes looked at him, brown and silver locks lay on her shoulders, and that smile shone out to him. He allowed himself a moment of memory…

"_Amanda, you must not be up. Your healer was very clear about this. I fail to understand why you insist on defying those instructions."_

"_I _know_ what she said, Sarek. I was there," she teased him, and then continued. "I thought I would see if you could be distracted from your work long enough to have lunch with me."_

_Sarek placed his PADD and stylus on the desk and rose to meet her halfway through the study. Her condition had grown worse, and she was weakening each day. He could see it, he knew she was aware the staff knew, but she refused to allow it to control her joy. _

_She saw the concern in his eyes. "Love, I am not about to allow this to steal everything from me. It will take my life, but not my happiness. Now come with me, _Adun_," she requested, holding his hand, "N'arein has made fresh _kreyla _and brought some lovely fruit in from the market."_

_He savored every moment of that meal with Amanda, indulging in moments of softness and sentimentality with her when the staff was elsewhere in the estate. It was then that she interrupted this indulgence with a conversation he did not wish to have._

"_Sarek, there is a matter I wish to discuss with you."_

"_What is it, Amanda?"_

"_I think you and I both know what it is," she paused and looked at him pointedly, "and although you do not wish it, we must talk about it."_

_He gently put his fork down, mustering all of his emotional control. He could not allow himself to consider what she was about to say._

"_You have given me more than I could have ever hoped for my life. You have taught me the meaning of respect for life beyond my own paradigm – provided me with experiences far beyond what I would have ever had. _

"_Together, you and I created a son who is a profoundly vivid representation of IDIC, and you are a remarkable and attentive husband. I am grateful for it all, Sarek, so grateful. _

"_You have asked so little of me in return. I am absolutely certain that if I had it all to do again, I would not change anything. I still believe myself to be a most fortunate Earth woman."_

_He silently listened to her and watched tears begin to drop from her eyes. He reached out his hand to hers and held it gently. _

"_Sarek, I do not weep for myself, not at all. I weep for you. The coming time is going to be very, very trying, and I wish that I could prevent it."_

"K'diwa_, that is illogical. Death will come to us all. It is the nature of things."_

"_I know that, sweetheart, believe me, I do. I also know how Vulcans are when a bond-mate dies. Some never recover, and they die, too." She squeezed his hand gently. "I have asked a lot of you in this life we have shared, but I have one last request of you. Will you hear it?"_

_He nodded silently to her, and braced himself for the one thing he wished she would not ask of him._

"_Sarek, promise me that you will seek another wife. Whomever she may be, wherever she is from, whatever her profession – it only matters to me that you find another who will care for you and nurture you…love you. You have devoted your life to the service of your people. You have always seen to my security and happiness. You have given me a satisfying marriage. Promise me that you will allow yourself to care for you-- "she paused as he committed a very rare interruption._

"_Amanda, I--I"_

"_Hear me out, please." She wiped the tears from her eyes. "Take the time you must, but promise me you will continue to live, not just exist."_

…Sarek looked at the lovely face in the holopic. Amanda's passing had been quiet and peaceful, in his arms on the veranda that overlooked the _Sas-a-shar_ desert stretching expansively beyond the estate. Soran had been waiting quietly inside and assisted Sarek in the preparations for her memorial - as always, a faithful and dutiful friend in all things. After the memorial, he quietly approached Sarek with a box Amanda had prepared for him.

Once in solitude, Sarek opened the box, and, realizing what it was, he sat in her rocking chair and switched the frame on. He looked upon her lovely face and then opened the envelope that accompanied it. Her beautiful script flowed across stationary he recognized as a gift to her from Spock.

_My Dearest Sarek,_

_So, this has finally come to pass. I cannot imagine the feelings you are experiencing now, and I sincerely wish you had not been the one to endure this, but that cannot be changed._

_I thank you for the peace you have given to me. Please consider what we discussed this afternoon. I love you dearly, my sweet, precious husband. _

_May your life be long, peaceful, and again filled with prosperity. May you find joy and satisfaction once more._

_Amanda_

Often times, in the evenings after his duties were completed he would find himself ill at ease with the quiet of the empty home. He found an illogical comfort in activating the holopic. Sarek looked upon her face a moment longer, and then switched the frame off and placed it in the desk drawer, certain he kept his promise to her.

He walked quietly through the apartment and warmed up his tea, and then made his way to the living room and found Emma asleep on the sofa. He set his tea on the table next to hers, and gently sat her up enough to sit down and rest her head upon his lap. She stirred softly, yawned, and smiled at him.

"How long have you been here?"

"Six point four three minutes," he answered. "Jake has adjusted to the new living conditions quite well." They watched as he batted the paper wad across the living room floor and into the hallway.

"Apparently so…I see you found your tea."

"Yes, thank you. Will you sleep on the sofa, or join me in bed?" he asked, teasingly.

"Hmm…let me consider my options. I have an opportunity to be pounced upon by a bad cat, or sleep in a soft, warm bed with you." She paused for dramatic effect. "I take the bed…and you, of course." She smiled at him, looking into his beautiful hazel eyes.

_Emma found herself walking through a field at the edge of the Trotternish Peninsula. It was the same place she and the other children ran and played as they grew up; her earliest memories were there. The sea breeze was fresh and briny, the heather tall, and the grass emerald green. Thistles swayed gently in the breeze as she came to a stop, observing the stocky figure ahead in the distance. Silently, she approached him. He was looking out over the North Sea as the wind whipped through his black hair. He bundled himself in his plaid and shivered quietly. _

_Could it really be him? Surely not, he was long dead… She reached out and gently touched his shoulder. When he turned, she was stunned. He smiled at her, a tiny sleeping infant cradled in his left arm._

"_Emma darling, it's good to see you again," Bruce said gently, his blue eyes gazing into hers. "I have missed you. William has as well." The tiny child squeaked and yawned in his father's embrace._

"_This is not possible," she said, grief rising fresh. She suddenly became aware of the presence of thousands of men, women, and children surrounding them…her grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins. Her ancestors all watched her quietly._

"_Sure it is. All things are possible, especially the highly improbable. That is how you know them to be true, my lovely," Bruce answered her. He reached out and gently traced his fingers down her cheek._

"_This is not real – it simply cannot be," she stammered. "You both died…and a long time ago at that. This…is not…real!" _

_Tears streamed down her face as the tiny boy reached a hand up in the air at the sound of her voice. She touched his hand and he grasped her finger reflexively._

"_Emma, instead of deciding this is unreal, perhaps you can take this for what it is," he suggested._

"_So what is this then?" she asked, looking at them all._

"_Call it a…convergence. It's not been good for you to be alone as you have. I love you, and I am glad for this new life that has come to ya," he replied, holding her hand in his. "Emma, please forgive me for departing from you. I could not help it - I would have given anything to stay with you. _

"_I know, Bruce. That was not your choosing."_

"_I cherished you my whole life. Now it's time to allow him to do the same."_

"_How?" she asked, feeling confused and conflicted._

"_You can start by going to him," Bruce said with a teasing smile._

"_What?"_

"_He is right behind you, woman. He's waitin' for ya," Bruce replied, pointing over her shoulder, chuckling._

_Emma turned around to see Sarek standing next to her. Their paired fingers touched and their bond surged._

"Aduna_, who were you speaking to?" Sarek asked with heightened curiosity._

"_Bruce of course…he's right here, you must meet him. He's…" She turned back only to find them all gone. Sarek watched as she looked for the spectres of those long dead._

"_Emma, there is no one there… Emma?"_

"Emma?" Sarek softly tapped her shoulder, trying to wake her gently. "_K'diwa_…"

She inhaled sharply and sat upright in the darkness.

"What were you dreaming about, _Aduna_?" he asked, placing a hand on her shoulder in comfort.

She lay down in his embrace. "I was out on Trotternish, and I found Bruce there with our son and my entire ancestral family. Really strange. Bruce told me that he missed me. I told him I didn't think that they were real…" She paused. "He said that the most improbable things are quite often very true."

"Logical," he replied.

"Sarek, how is that logical?" she asked with heightened skepticism.

"When attempting to solve a problem it is only logical that elimination of the impossible results in the improbable remaining – and therein lies the truth."

"Oh…when you put it that way... He called our meeting a convergence. He told me that he was glad that you and I are together because he felt it was not good for me to be alone as I was, and," she hesitated momentarily, "he said I should allow you to cherish me as he did. I feel very conflicted, Sarek."

"Emma, I do not expect you to carry on in our marriage as if there was no past for you to accept; just as it would be impossible for me to begin anew as if Amanda and I never shared our lives. You and I must allow this time to be only what it is: a beginning. _Tahluk nash-veh k'dular, Aduna t'nash-veh._ I cherish you, my wife, and I am grateful for the potentialities in our future," he replied.

She was aware of life in the room much earlier than she deemed necessary, and rolled over to him as he stretched and sat up. He was very lean, and although not bulky, his muscle structure was well defined. He flexed his back gently and then sat still as she traced her fingers up the center of his spine.

"_Ha'tha ti'lu_, Sarek. What time is it, please?" she asked him quietly.

"0500 hours, Emma, and good morning to you as well," he said, leaning toward her for a kiss. He stood and walked to his closet, donned his meditation robes and left for the chamber.

After her shower, she dressed and went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast, deciding on fruit, _kasa _juice, and _kreyla_. Just as she was putting them into the oven, he returned and joined her in the kitchen, pouring a cup of coffee for her. After insisting that the fruit would be ample, he prepared a plate for her and then served himself. As they were beginning to eat, the door chime rang. Emma answered to find Soran.

"Good morning Soran, please come in."

"I must speak with the ambassador."

"We are in the midst of first-meal. Will you join us?" she asked.

"Yes."

They entered the dining room he sat with them. As he prepared a small plate, Sarek spoke. "What is it you wish to discuss at this hour, Soran?"

"I received an urgent request to modify the appointment scheduled with you by the Ariannan ambassador."

"They have modified that request six times already," Sarek replied. "It is impossible to accommodate this request for the next three weeks."

"Sir, your schedule will accommodate them in exactly fourteen point three minutes." Soran paused and absorbed the look that Sarek sent his way, and then continued. "They are currently en route. The ambassador has been recalled with urgency and due to the importance of the tariff negotiations, he requested the meeting prior to his departure, and sends his apologies for the inconvenience."

She walked into her office and began to filter through the mail, messages, and parcels that had arrived during her absence. One message on the com-unit was of particular interest, from the Center for Xenocognitive Perception and Linguistic Research on Nisus.

Two months earlier, she submitted an abstract for a research presentation segment in their upcoming conference. Her research in the development of languages and metric patterns had piqued the interest of the selection committee and she had been granted a sixty-minute keynote address for the second day of the conference proceedings.

Sarek was proofreading his response to Spock when a knock rapped on his door frame. He looked up to see her carrying a tray with tea and fresh _kreyla_.

"Soran said you had fifteen minutes until your next appointment. I have some good news." She smiled at him and handed him a cup and a small plate with the biscuits on it. "By chance, do you remember the abstract I submitted to the CRPLX for the upcoming conference?" she asked with a knowing smile.

"Yes. Was it accepted?"

"Not only accepted, but they have offered me the keynote for the second day," she answered with a satisfied smile.

"Congratulations, Emma. That is an excellent opportunity to further your research." Sarek thought for a moment and then continued. "In a manner of coincidence, the physicians who cared for Amanda during her pregnancy both now reside on Nisus."

They exchanged a long, quiet glance with one another.

"Shall I arrange for an appointment during your visit?" he asked.

She nodded. "I think that would be an excellent idea."

USS Intrepid II, Captain's Quarters, 26 August 2295

_Captain's Log, Stardate 3718.2, Captain Spock recording…_

_We have successfully completed our survey of the gravitational anomalies bordering the Betreka Nebula. All preliminary reports suggest the influence of the gravitational fields originates from within the nebula and is naturally occurring. However, they pose a moderate threat to standard navigational sensor units. My final report will request that warning buoys be deployed per standard procedure, pending a secondary investigational mission to verify consistency of the preliminary readings over time._

_Performance Commendations to be awarded to Ensign Lowery for exceptional efforts in repairs to the deflector dish as mentioned in yesterday's log; to Lieutenant Jadassohn for her creative solution preventing the fungal destruction of the dietary supplement gardens needed by our Tellarite crewmen; and finally to Crewman Davies for her management of the modifications to the scanning equipment used by Stellar Cartography during exploration of the nebula._

_Our current orders instruct timely delivery of necessary medical supplies for a parasitic outbreak on two planets in the Aldebaran system. We are currently en route, and I expect arrival in 2.823 light days._

_Spock out._

He leaned back in his chair, proofreading the log entry before saving it and retiring for the night. He was pleased to have completed the gravitational survey, as the nebula had proven to be a challenge to the helmsmen aboard his vessel. Given their level of expertise, general civilian vessels would find the region to be very difficult to navigate with the standard quality of equipment they used.

He rose and changed into his meditation robes. As he knelt before the brazier and placed incense inside, he began to clear his mind, beginning with the most basic meditation sequences. He had nearly entered his meditative state when his com-unit chimed. He rose from the floor and activated the audio response button, not particularly interested in being seen out of uniform by his crew, even if it were merely the officer of the watch.

"Captain Spock?" Commander McGraw said softly.

"Spock here."

"Sir, you have an incoming subspace message, encoded on private frequency. Shall I decode here or send it to you directly?"

"Point of origin, Commander?"

"Earth, sir. It's encoded on private encryption."

"I will receive it as is, in my quarters."

"Aye, Captain."

Four seconds later, the message awaited him. He activated the decoding software used by the Vulcan government for personal communications and waited patiently for it to complete its cycle. Once complete, he accessed the message, and looked upon his father's face.

Although he could not identify what it was, something appeared different about his father. Ever since his mother's death two years earlier, Spock had made a concerted effort to communicate more frequently with his father than he had in the past. It was, after all, the last thing she had asked of him…

_Amanda smiled when she saw Spock's face appear on the com-unit. She was in her nightgown and robe, wrapped up in a blanket against the cold air of the desert night. _

"_Hello Spock! What a surprise. Is everything ok?"_

"_Yes, _Ko-mehk_. I received a communication from _Sa-mehk_ that you are not well. I will be unable to divert to Vulcan for some time. I thought I would call and speak with you."_

"_I asked your father to not worry you about this, _Sa-fu…_but he has, so there's no changing it. This is an expensive call, Spock. You should have sent a delayed message."_

"_It is more important that I speak with you, Mother."_

"_How are you, sweetheart?"_

"_I am fine. Is your condition uncomfortable? Are you in need of anything?"_

"_Oh, I am fine, but thank you for asking. It's a matter of time now… My healer says the degeneration is progressing faster than she expected. But I am determined to enjoy myself. My only regret is that I am not allowed to work in my garden anymore."_

_He knew that was a setback for her as it was one thing that brought such joy to her. "Has anyone been charged with its care?"_

"_N'arein is managing it beautifully." Amanda looked at him directly. "Spock, I do have one request of you, actually."_

_He looked at her and nodded. "Anything, _A'maih._"_

"_Promise me that you will look after your father, Spock. My death will be very hard on him. I know it will be for you as well, but it is different for Sarek – he is my bond-mate. The last thing I want is for his life to end as well. He will likely not articulate his needs to you, just be aware that extra communication or visits when it's possible for you will give great support to him."_

_Her death was not an issue he wanted to consider. Although he knew it was inevitable, even if her disease was incurable, illogically, he did not want to accept its imminent arrival._

"_As you wish, Mother." _

"_Spock, I don't know if we will have an opportunity to talk again like this, so would you permit me a momentary personal indulgence?"_

"_Of course."_

"_When I was a little girl, I had this plan in my head of how my life would be: I was going to marry a businessman, have three children, and live in my grandmother's home, teaching at the local school. I had all the details in mind. Then I ended up in a Vulcan language class because the course I needed was full and closed. I fell in love with a beautiful language and did not think anything of it._

"_Then your father came along and ruined everything. He was handsome, intelligent, and taken with me, and my life-plan shot out the window, so to speak. We were bonded and married, and two years later, you came into my life. _

"_From the moment I gave birth to you, from the first time I looked into your beautiful brown eyes, I knew that I was blessed with a marvel. Your first words, steps, practical jokes…all of it…I was always sure of one thing about you: I was and still am filled with pride in who you are, and what you have become. _

"_You are a model Vulcan citizen, a remarkable officer in Starfleet, and most importantly, you are a treasure to me. You have exceeded all hopes and dreams we ever had for you. You honor me, _Sa-fu_. Other parents desire to have such a son, and I see him realized in you."_

…Spock looked at a holopic of her and Sarek together. Unbeknownst to them, it had been taken by Soran only days before Amanda died. They were looking at one another, fingers paired, sitting by the garden. T'Khut was in the background, watching over them.

He had received the holopic and a short letter from his mother in a delivery from Soran very soon after her memorial. As irrational as it seemed, he had not been able to bring himself to read his mother's letter, until now.

_My Dear Spock,_

_I know that when you read this, I will be gone. I want to thank you for your call last night; it was refreshing to see you again. Please know that it brought peace to my heart to talk with you once more. _

_I thought of one other thing you can do for me, and it may be difficult for you. Your father has many years left to his life. He will be in need of a wife. When he finds her, I ask that you support and encourage them. I cannot bear the thought of him being alone as it will not be good for him. I trust you will see to his care._

_Neither is such loneliness good for you. I understand your commitment to your duties, my son. I respect that, I and I also recognize that which is absent from your life experiences. May I please intrude upon your privacy to ask that you consider that which surrounds you? _

_I love you dearly, my gentle boy._

_A'maih_

He held the letter delicately in his hands, and felt a surge of grief rise through his chest as he looked over her manuscript on the paper he had given her for Mother's Day the year before her death. Instead of suppressing it, he acknowledged his mother's understanding of his Human side, and allowed it to surface, and then quietly fade away. Gently, he folded the letter and replaced it in its envelope.

"Computer, commence playback of decoded message," he whispered softly.

_My Son,_

_I thank you for your message regarding the possibility of your visit, and I would find it most satisfying for you to stay with me, if your schedule will allow you to do so. My official schedule appears to accommodate the timing of your visit. Let us continue to discuss the possibility with one another as the time draws nearer._

_There is another matter I must discuss with you. I have taken a wife, and along with this communication, I have forwarded her dossier. It would mean a great deal to me for you to meet her. I find her to be a most fascinating woman._

_May your travels be free from danger, _Sa-fu_. Peace and long life to you._

So, he thought to himself, that is the difference. Spock opened the attached file and began to read about the woman who had captured his father's _katra_. An Earth woman – highland Scot – 38 years of age… and then he recognized her name. His father had bonded with the director of the FCID and composer laureate. Fascinating. He found himself curious as to exactly how this had happened, because better than anyone else in the universe, Spock knew that Sarek of Vulcan was not known for casual and careless decisions.

He felt an odd sense of relief that his father had found a compatible bond-mate before his Time would approach again. Spock had been privately calculating his own estimates as to when that might take place, and had already been preparing to speak with his father if he had not resolved the issue independently. He was most grateful to not address that issue with Sarek, lest his own needs be brought into account as well. Needs…feelings…

_His earliest memories began in his infancy…fragments of communication, smiling blue eyes, warmth in her arms, a feeling of safety, a delicate voice singing softly when he was frightened, feeding. Playing with her, her delight at the laughter of a Vulcan infant._

_As a small child working with her in the greenhouse, learning how to repot plants, to fertilize and water them, her hands guiding his small ones in the gentle care of growing things, her patience with his coordination. She always found projects that she just could not possibly complete without his assistance, and the feeling of contribution to her satisfaction filled him with pride each time._

_As he returned with the other children from his _kahs'wan_ she stood quietly beside his father and said nothing beyond the customary greetings, at least in public. In the privacy of their home, she sat with him in his room and told him how proud she was of him, enduring the dangers of the journey and conducting himself as an adult, even in the midst of potential failure. _

"_Your choice to sacrifice your own success to preserve the life of another demonstrates profound maturity, Spock," she said gently. "You represent the best that we both have to give."_

_When the other children in school were so cruel, she would reinforce the positives of the life he had, continuing to find ways that her life would simply not be satisfying without his assistance. Secretly it had helped him to feel less miserable, at least a little._

"_Spock, always remember that the feelings you have are normal, whether you're Human, Vulcan, or both. It is the manner in which we allow our feelings to manipulate us that matters. Do not deny your anger and heartache, but do not allow them to dictate your interactions with others, or permit them to steal your satisfaction with life. You are the only person who can take that from you."_

_As he completed his education and chose Starfleet, she had supported his decisions to do what he believed was best for his life, even in the disapproval of his father. She had nurtured them both in the recovery from Sarek's surgery, encouraged their reconnection afterward, …and agonized over his death in battle against Khan. After the success of the Refusion, his re-education had proceeded well, until the computer asked how he felt. She helped him to understand the Human side of his nature once again._

"A debt I can never repay," he said quietly.

He continued to read about Emma, impressed by her educational record, professional abilities, and historical background. He recognized her family, having read the works written by her father and uncle.

"Computer, locate poetic translation records by Emma C. McGregor."

"Specify."

"Number of extant records?"

"One thousand, five hundred sixty three."

"Display random selection," he instructed.

He read a few works with interest, noting her unusual and concise translation style. He moved through several more, and the sixth gave him pause: _Deal Gently With My Love_. He read it three times, stunned by her perception and understanding of the nature of the bond-mate relationship. Such foreshadowing…

Sunday, 22 September 2295

Nearly a month had passed since their return from Skye, and as Emma sat on their balcony eating her dinner alone, she silently gave thanks for the knowledge that Sarek was returning home that evening. His message seemed to indicate the Madrossian negotiations had been a large success, and they had managed to depart earlier than previously scheduled. Nineteen days away from him had been rather interesting.

She'd been quite busy. Her students were moving rapidly through the newer materials and more assertive pace she established after Sarek had advised her of their learning expectations and needs. In fact, she already had them working collaboratively to organize their compositions for the performance that would finalize the first phase of the FCID initiatives.

Her doorbell chimed, drawing her back into the present. She answered it to find Sulok, Savel, Sonek, and T'Naara. She was amused to see some of her students; the grandfather, his son, and two grandchildren all in age and height order.

"Good evening to you, please come in."

T'Naara approached her with several globe fruit in her hands. "_Osavensu_, we have an abundant harvest this year."

"_Nemaiyo_, T'Naara. Your generosity honors me." Recalling a recent lesson about the receipt of a gift of food, she continued. "Will you share this with me?"

As they followed into the kitchen and she prepared enough for them to enjoy with her, she thought herself most fortunate to have developed such a friendship with them. It was a significant moment to be approached at home, in an unofficial capacity. Friendship was not given lightly, and trust not easily earned.

"To what do I owe this visit?" she asked. They each deferred to Sulok.

"_Osavensu_," Sulok began, "we have discussed options for our compositions. Your instructions clearly stated that we are each to compose our own works for our performance on the concert. We request permission to perform an ensemble work together instead."

"Indeed? What do you propose?" she asked, her curiosity elevated.

"A larger work for the ensemble, and we request your performance with us. We have developed an outline of the history of Surak's life and the changes he brought to our world."

He handed her a PADD with the information, and she read through it carefully: a three-movement work in the classical form; solo instruments and the ensemble together, including vocal and instrumental presentation. It incorporated heavy rhythmic elements, strict adherence to the teachings of Surak, and its purpose was to enlighten the audience regarding the Vulcan philosophy of emotional management and logical thought.

Sarek stood in the elevator with bags in hand, and was most grateful to be home and, soon, with his wife. His time alone after Amanda's death served to reinforce her assertions that loneliness was not healthy for him, whether or not his Time was taken into the equation. He approached the door to his quarters to hear several voices inside. Listening to their conversation, he entered the apartment quietly and placed his belongings inside the office just past the front door.

"Sulok, you are willing to become the voice of Surak in the work? The timbre of your voice would be a perfect representation," she said.

"Yes, _Osavnesu_. I have already begun preliminary composition of the melodic lines."

"Excellent. Are there any other thoughts from the students not with you this evening?"

Savel answered her. "No, _T'sai_. Their contributions are included."

"Good evening," Sarek said as he entered the living room. He approached her and paired his fingers to hers, greeting her silently.

//_K'diwa._ It is pleasing to see you once more.//

//You as well, _t'hy'la_. Welcome home.//

As they each bowed to him, she became aware that they had an audience and remembered a duty she had just learned about that week. "May I bring you more tea?" she asked Sulok directly.

She knew that they were expecting her to make it clear whether the invitation to stay would be extended now that Sarek had returned. If she desired them to remain, she would have made the tea without offering it first. Her question allowed them the honor of deciding to end the visit on their terms, thus granting them respect.

Sulok, recognizing the polite request for their departure, discouraged the tea service. "No thank you, Lady Emma. The hospitality of your home is generous, but we must depart."

"As you wish, _S'haile_," she replied with the traditional answer. It seemed an odd and backward way for them to take a hint, but it was correct to them.

T'Naara picked Jake up from her lap and set him on the floor, despite his protests. Evidently cats had no respect for social expectations in Vulcan culture. Emma thought that rather funny – they were evidently xenocultural discriminators. While Sarek saw them out, she cleaned up the dishes from their visit and stepped into the kitchen to make a fresh pot of tea.

//Sarek, have you eaten end-meal?//

//Yes, _Aduna_. Will you join me, please?//

She found him at the firepot. He kissed her gently and escorted her to the balcony. Ensuring they had privacy, he approached from behind, placed his arms around her waist, and wrapped them both in the warmth of his robes. As they looked out on the gardens in the moonlight, he took a slow, deep breath, and relished in her scent. She held his arms as they pulled her close to his body.

"I wish to show you T'Khut's night-light on the desert near Shi'Khar." He held her closely to him, her back against his chest. As he kissed her neck her skin tingled…his brain tingled. "My _Aduna_," he whispered. He kissed her ear gently, his breath hot on her skin. He traced the line of her lobe with his tongue.

"Mmmm, you are teasing me."

"Perhaps. I have something for you."

She turned around in his arms, allowing his robe to fall to the side as he handed her a small box. She looked at him, confused.

Inside she found two wedding bands of the same design, one larger and one smaller. They were each an endless Celtic knot, made of gold and silver set onto a platinum ring base. A message was engraved on the inside of hers: '_Taluhk nash-veh k'dular, T'ashalik'_. He had commissioned the rings from an artisan jeweler on Skye, and had to make arrangements with Will to get her ring engraved so he would not be subjected to inquiries as to the meaning. Her father agreed on the condition that he tell _him_.

"I Cherish Thee, Darling Wife," she translated. "Oh, Sarek, they are lovely, but you did not have to have two made," she said quietly. "I know it is not customary for Vulcans to wear them."

Gently taking the ring from her, he placed it on the third finger of her left hand. "Out of respect for Vulcan culture, I wear the signet of my House. Out of respect for your culture, I will wear the signet of our bonding."

She looked at the lovely ring on her hand. Then her eyes went to the ring remaining in the box. She looked at it, then his hand, and then him. He nodded affirmatively to her. "I will consent to wearing the ring on one condition: perhaps you will think of something worthy of engraving on mine?"

Steadying her hands, she took the ring and placed it on his third finger, left hand. It was a perfect fit. Footfall could be heard through the garden. They looked down to see Soran and his bond-mate T'Lyrawalking past. They were oblivious to their audience, paused, and embraced paired fingers. Emma would have sworn she saw a faint smile on the woman's face. They stood there for a moment and then continued on down the pathway.

"My wife, attend," Sarek instructed quietly, walking inside to leave them to their privacy.

She followed, stopping long enough to close the French doors to the balcony. She went to him and stood with him in front of the firepot. "They are a beautiful couple," she said quietly. "Do they have any children?"

"No. She is unable to conceive. T'Lyra developed _yukal-rasahtra_ very early in their bonding_. _The only option to preserve her life was surgery."

Emma knew that ovarian cancer was rare among Vulcan women. She felt sad for them, understanding how precious children were to their culture.

Sensing her feelings, Sarek sought to reassure her. "Do not trouble yourself with this matter. They lead productive and satisfying lives. They have been my most trusted aides for many years. Emma, I must refresh myself after my journey. I will return to you momentarily."

While he was in the sonic shower, she unpacked his belongings and then dressed in her favorite nightgown. She activated the privacy lock on the front door and sat in what had become her favorite chair in the soft light of flickering coals.

He approached her silently. She still was growing accustomed to the difference of his anatomy, but in the light of the coals, it did not seem all that important to her. He knelt in front of her and pulled her to him gently, wrapping his arms around her body, inhaling her scent deeply. She held him tightly and kissed his neck, trailing her way to his collar bone.

"I missed you…" She trailed off.

He held her face in his hands and kissed her slowly, tracing her lips with his tongue, kissing each one softly. Her tongue met his and they touched lightly for a moment. His hands found her shoulders, touching the soft fabric that barely covered her body. She knelt down on the floor with him, trailing her fingertips on his skin, barely teasing him with her fingernails. A very quiet moan rumbled inside his throat.

"_K'diwa_, your absence was noticeable."

He leaned forward and began kissing her neck, nibbling as he moved from one side to another. She moaned in approval, her body starting to catch fire. He found the buttons on the front of her gown and unbuttoned the top one, kissing the skin it exposed.

She gently ran her fingertips along his ears and she felt a surge in her mind as she experienced his sensations. He made his way to the third button down and he unfastened it. He stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers, kissed her, and then began trying to remove the now uncooperative gown.

//How can something so delicate be so difficult? It is not logical,// he thought to himself, fumbling with a particularly obstinate button.

She laughed inwardly, stood, and reached to help him. She opened the remaining buttons and the gown merely hung on her shoulders. Stepping back and allowing the fire light to illuminate her body, he was taken aback by the way she looked at him; her eyes filled with a desire he had not seen in her before. She allowed the gown to fall softly from her shoulders to the floor, revealing herself to him

He reached his hand out slowly to touch her, caressing her gently. With the back of his fingers and hands he grazed across her breasts, bringing her close to him, her chest conforming to his. He stroked her neck, shoulders, and then rested his hands upon her hips as his body responded strongly to hers. His pupils dilated such that she could almost no longer see the color of his eyes. In those deep black pools she sensed wanton desire to connect with her, and at his urging she followed him to their bed chamber.

It was early in the morning when Emma awakened to his kiss on her forehead.

"What time is it?" she asked, sleep still in half-possession of her.

"0530 hours. Would you like to share breakfast with me, or sleep? It is early, and I will not be offended if you choose sleep," he said, just looking at her bed-head.

"Does your schedule allow time for lunch?" she asked through a yawn, feeling more sluggish than usual.

"Possibly. Rest, my wife," he said, his fingers entwined with hers.

She rolled over mumbling what sounded like a 'thank you', and was sound asleep. He lightly stroked her back and shoulders, extending feelings across their bond he could not openly express. After a light breakfast he set out to his office, finding Soran already there attending to communications that had arrived in the night.

Soran nodded at him and watched him walk into his office and thought about the previous evening. He and T'Lyra had retired to their bedroom and were nearly asleep when they became abundantly aware of the thinness of the walls. They lay in the dark hearing their love-making: pleading, intimate speech, his possession of her, their bodies moving together, his deep-throated growls, satisfied moans preceding an intense release.

Soran and his wife agreed quietly that they would occupy the second bedroom of their quarters from that point forward.

Monday, 30 September 2295

Sarek and Emma were enjoying a quiet dinner together on the balcony, watching the sun set over San Francisco Bay. They were chatting about the events of the day, schedules that week, and the memorial concert for Shiyoran Ka'alte that would be presented that Saturday evening. As they sat in the sunset, the com-unit chimed.

Emma rose to answer it while Sarek poured another cup of tea for each of them. She accepted an incoming transmission from a rather handsome and vaguely familiar younger Vulcan male. She could not place his name in her mind, but thought she had seen him before.

"How may I be of service, _S'haile_?" she asked in formal _Vulkahnsu_, following the customs she was being tutored in.

Spock looked at her momentarily, one eyebrow rising slowly. Although he hid it well, he was most intrigued; her accent was _very_ unusual.

"I would speak with the ambassador, _T'sai,"_ he responded formally, uncertain if she were simply being appropriately formal, or if she did not know who he was.

"Certainly, sir. Who may I say is speaking?" she asked, clueless to his identity.

"Spock cha Sarek cha Skon, _T'sai._"

Emma's eyes widened slightly and her jaw dropped as she suddenly recognized the familial resemblance. Her face began to flush with embarrassment. "Forgive me, please. I will get your father immediately, please wait a moment!" she exclaimed, and disappeared from the viewer.

She walked out onto the balcony, feeling rather perturbed. "Sarek, you have a call."

"Your tea, _Aduna_. Who is it?"

"Spock," she replied. She just looked at him with a frustrated face. "I did not know it was him…and that was embarrassing. The first time we talk and I don't even know who he is. Honestly, Sarek."

He chastised himself inwardly; his oversight had caused the situation for her. "The fault is mine, not yours. I failed to anticipate his call. Excuse me."

Spock heard every word of their conversation, but chose not to reveal it. He was greeted by his father, seeminglycool and collected as always.

"Spock. Peace and long life to you, my son."

"To you as well, Father. Please accept my apologies for the disruption this evening. We have arrived at space dock ahead of schedule."

"Indeed. Will your schedule permit a visit?"

"Yes, sir. I will arrive Thursday at 1100 hours."

"Acceptable. It is satisfying to see you, my son. How long will you be able to stay with us?"

"We are scheduled to transport a small group of researchers to Nisus for an upcoming conference. Our departure is ordered for Sunday evening."

"Understood. Until Thursday, _Sa-fu._"

"Spock out."

Sarek returned to the balcony to find her drinking her tea, her thoughts unusually quiet. He sat down with her. She was silent, determined to make him address the _faux pas_.

"Emma?"

"_Ha, Adun_?" she replied, still looking out on the water as the sun fell farther beneath the horizon.

"I ask forgiveness. I did not intend for your first meeting to be so inauspicious." He looked at her and waited for her to respond.

She resigned herself from trying to stay at least a little mad at him. "Well, what's done is done, no changin' it," her expression softening.

He moved his chair closer to her, and offered her two fingers.

She paired them to hers, and chuckled. "I think he had difficulty understanding me at first. My accent is not improving."

He looked into her eyes for a long moment. "We shall correct that, my wife, in due time."

Thursday morning began early. She was up at 0400 hours for her daily run because dress rehearsals and Spock's visit would take precedence in the evenings. As she dressed in her shorts and a t-shirt, she looked at Sarek, who appeared to be sleeping soundly. She smiled to herself in triumph; she was actually up before he was for a change. While she was lacing her shoes, he spoke over their bond.

//To use a Standard idiom, there is a first time for everything, _Aduna_.//

She smiled broadly, and then walked to the bed and sat on the edge next to him. She gently stroked his face and tried to manage his bed-head, finding it as ornery as hers.

"I have a secret, Sarek. Would you like to know what it is?"

"Certainly."

"I love you…illogically, irrationally, Humanly. I just do," she said quietly to him.

"Emma, acknowledging the illogical, irrational, and Human nature of such sentiment does not change the truth."

"What's that?"

"I have been aware of this secret for quite some time. You have not hidden that information well."

She smiled at him and brought his hand to hers, their fingers touching briefly. He sensed mild discomfort from her feelings – not emotionally, but physically.

"Emma, do you feel unwell?"

"Not really…I don't know how to place it…I feel a wee bit funky today."

"Funky?"

"Yes, _funky_," she replied, emphasizing the manner in which he had pronounced the word.

"Am I to understand that idiom to mean 'not in proper working order'?"

"Aye. It will pass. I have been feeling a little off the past two days, I may just have a bug or something. Don't worry about it. If it does not go away, I will see T'Pola, promise."

Her morning geared up quickly, with student appointments holding her attention until a scheduled rehearsal with her duet partner. Emma answered a call from the front security gate.

"_Osavensu_, there is a woman here requesting admittance for a rehearsal," Savel said in his usual matter-of-fact tone.

"Yes, her name is Terry Behrens. I will meet her at the front desk. Please send her through."

She walked quickly down the corridor, gave _Guernica_ a nod as she passed by, and arrived at the front desk the moment Terry stepped in the door. Terry set her horn down and waved.

"Hello," Terry said quietly. "Emma, please forgive my lateness. The tram got stuck in the tunnel, and there is no service for communicators in there. I got here as quickly as I could."

"Nay bother, my friend. Let's get to it, then. Its gonna be interesting I fear. I've not warmed up yet."

Moments later, a transporter beam activated outside the gates of the embassy, alerting Savel to the arrival of the ambassador's son, Spock. He walked to the security gate and presented his identification.

"Welcome, Captain Spock. Your presence honors us," Savel said.

"I come to serve."

"Do you require assistance with your belongings?"

"No."

Sarek approached the gate and raised his hand in the _ta'al_. "_Dif-tor heh smusma, Sa-fu_."

"_Mene sakkat ur-seveh, Sa-mehk."_

"It is agreeable to see you again, Spock. Join me."

They walked into the embassy and to his office. They talked as Sarek prepared tea and served his son. Sarek observed that Spock still was too thin. Amanda had always complained about that, and now he was thought she was correct in her assertions.

"What of your recent experiences in space?"

"We completed a thorough scan of the Betreka nebula five weeks ago. Our astrophysics department has discovered unexpected, naturally-occurring gravitational influences within the nebula itself. The behaviors are highly unusual, and no recorded evidence of them has been surveyed elsewhere in the known galaxy. I have the finalized report for you if have time to read it."

"Most kind, my son. I shall and with interest. How is the situation in the Aldebaran system?"

"The parasitic invasions originated from a cargo ship that made unscheduled deliveries. Their bio-contaminant screens were not in proper order. The infestations are receding, and it is expected that the capital cities will resume normal functioning within two weeks."

"Proper maintenance schedules would have corrected that," Sarek commented.

"Affirmative."

As they continued their conversation, Emma and Terry sat in the rehearsal room and began to prepare for their practice. When they tuned together, the Vulcan's conversation halted as Spock turned to look in the direction of Emma's office.

"I am have familiarized myself with her musical works and performances and find them to be aesthetically appealing; however, I must ask… Is this not a distraction?" Spock asked, eyebrows rising.

"Emma conducts business and private lessons during the day, and practices after hours so as not to disrupt meetings and work for our government. In light of the performances this weekend and her presentation at the conference on Nisus, rehearsals have been interestingly arranged to accommodate preparatory requirements _and_ meetings with delegations."

"I saw her name on the passenger manifest for the journey to Nisus. What topic will she present?"

"She will present her discovery of two unique linguistic correlations amongst all species within the Federation that do not utilize telepathy as their main form of interpersonal communication."

"Indeed? That excludes only three races. What are the correlations?"

"The first is that each language developed in imitation of indigenous, ambient sounds in the natural environment of each species, and the second being each species developed its own unique spoken meter. She has been able to identify these meters, and compose a representative work for each primary language. These works are based upon universally recognized publications from each culture."

"Fascinating."

They listened as the pitches synchronized, which was followed by silence, and then laughter from the women.

//Emma, would you permit an audience in your office?//

//Of course. Rehearsals are always open, _Adun_.//

"Come with me, son," Sarek requested.

They walked into her office and seated themselves just as Terry stepped toward the conference table to get her music. She looked at them quietly and smiled, and then excused herself, returning to the rehearsal. As she sat down, she leaned over and whispered to Emma. "There are a couple of Vulcans at your conference table." she said, unaware that they could still hear every word she said.

"I have an open rehearsal policy. They will often come to listen if they are not otherwise occupied with their duties."

"Oh, neat."

"Yeah, it is. They are very appreciative of the arts. Vivaldi, then?" Emma asked.

At noon, Sonek and T'Naara entered her office quietly with their drumsticks in hand and waited for her to begin their lesson. Terry and Emma were packing up and walked out of the rehearsal room into the office to find the group waiting for them.

"Terry, I will walk you out if you need."

"I got it, thanks. Is it still 1730 hours for orbital departure to Nisus on Sunday?" Terry asked.

"Yes. We will depart the embassy at 1600 hours."

Emma turned to Sonek and T'Naara. "I apologize for my tardiness. Our rehearsal was unavoidably delayed. Please go inside and begin your preparatory exercises."

They bowed and proceeded to follow her instructions. She exhaled and turned to see Sarek and Spock sitting there waiting quietly. In the split second before Sarek began to speak, she looked at the two of them together…so much alike, but so different in some things. She could see Amanda in him.

"_Aduna_, this is my son, Spock. Spock, this is Emma McGregor, she who is my wife."

"Hello Spock. I am honored to meet you properly this time." She smiled at him, and offered the _ta'al_ to him.

"The honor is mine, _T'sai_," he replied.

"Please call me Emma. There is no need for formalities between us. I would love to talk with you both, but the children's lesson is already behind schedule. May we continue after end-meal?"

"Of course," Sarek replied.

She nodded graciously to them and walked into the percussion lesson, thankful that the meeting had gone better the second time around.

As she completed her duties for the day, she leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes, rubbing her face gently. She had a headache now, and decided to stop by T'Pola's office on her way home. She rapped lightly on the door frame.

"_Ohakausu_, may I speak with you please?"

"Of course, Emma_._"

"I am afraid I may have caught a virus or something…I have not been feeling well the past couple of days, and now I have a moderate headache. It could just be stress, but I don't normally have anxiety issues."

T'Pola indicated she lie on the examination table and then began a medical scan. "What are your symptoms?"

"I woke up dizzy yesterday and today, mild nausea, I have felt as if my equilibrium is off, and now the headache. I have actually had to make myself eat for two days now, and _that _has never happened before."

"Your temperature is slightly elevated; however, your t-cell count is normal, negating viral or bacterial infections the bloodstream. I see no indication of middle or inner ear infections. Your insulin/sugar ratios are normal. I will note these details in your medical file."

"Ok, thank you."

"I suggest taking more time for rest as you prepare for the concert Saturday and your travels to Nisus. The ambassador asked me to prepare a copy of your medical records for your travels," she said as she handed Emma an information chip. "They are updated and ready for you. I recommend you discuss these feelings of illness with _Ohakausu _Sorel and Dr. Corrigan, particularly if they have not ceased."

She stood in the elevator and waited patiently for it to arrive at the third floor. She was thinking of what she would prepare for end-meal, when the delightful sent of _klitanta s'mun t'forati_ enticed her home. She found the vegetables with a traditional sauce, fresh _kreyla_, and a salad made from _pla-savas_ and _naric_ fruits mixed with salad greens all waiting on the table. She walked into the living room and found Sarek and Spock involved in a conversation.

//Sarek, may I have a word please?//

"Excuse me, my son." Sarek followed her into the bedroom.

"I am sorry to interrupt your conversation, sweetheart. I went to see T'Pola a few moments ago."

"Are you ill?" he inquired as he selected an evening robe for her to wear.

"She says there is no indication of viral or bacterial infection, although my temperature is slightly elevated. She also gave me the chip with my medical records for the trip."

He nodded. "Your evening robes arrived this afternoon. I would find it most acceptable if you were to wear this one tonight, _t'hy'la_."

He approached her with a delicate robe of the deepest forest green she had ever seen. Placing it on the bed, he removed her bra and then draped the robe across her shoulders and fastened it for her. "You have no need of that undergarment with this style of robe." He reached around her waist and secured it gently at her left hip, then at her right. "It fits you perfectly. Sovik has a remarkable gift for tailoring. I requested he make it; it compliments your eyes, _Aduna_," he murmured softly, kissing her cheek.

In the moment his lips touched her skin, he felt the full discomfort of her headache and the rise in her body temperature. "How long have you been feeling this way?"

"The headache started after my lesson with the children. T'Pola has instructed me to get more rest in preparation for coming events. Don't worry about it, Sarek. Let's go eat, ok?"

He nodded and followed her to the dining room, wondering what could be causing these symptoms. It brought him concern for her well-being, and he considered the possibility of disallowing her travels if her condition grew worse.

"My compliments to the chefs, this looks delicious. Thank you both."

"Spock prepared the main course, and I made the salad and _kreyla_."

They ate together as a family, and the longer she sat with them, the more comfortable she became with the idea of a stepson thirty-five years older than she.


	5. It Only Takes Once

NEW: Life After Death Chapter 5

By: T'Ashalik

Sa/f, Sp

Saturday, 5 October 2295, 2100 hours

After the memorial concert honoring the late Ka'alte, Sarek and Spock sat together on the balcony sharing tea before his return to the Intrepid II. He considered the interesting and lovely woman who had captured his father's heart, mind, and _katra_.

His father was engaging everything around him with a much different mindset than the months after Amanda's passing and, for all appearances, Sarek was satisfied with his life's course.

"Father, may I speak with you regarding a personal matter?"

"Yes, my son."

"I ask forgiveness if I what I am about to say intrudes upon your privacy," Spock paused, "but I am grateful that you have found a bond-mate with whom you derive such satisfaction. Although my relationship with Emma is newly forming, I believe her to be a suitable and appropriate choice for you. However, I find myself struggling with a matter of personal concern, and therefore seek your counsel."

"What is it, Spock?" Sarek asked.

"Something that Mother asked of me…" He paused, not completing the sentence, feeling an uncomfortable vulnerability in his father's presence; a tangible fear of rejection by him. It was illogical and he knew it, but it did not negate its existence.

"_Sa-fu_, what troubles thee?" Sarek asked. Sensing his son's fear, he sought to encourage him. "_Dakh pthak – Spock'am. Nam-tor ri ret na'fan-kitok fa tu dakh pthak_. Cast out fear, Spock. There is no room for anything else until you cast out fear."

Spock looked into his father's eyes for a moment, but said nothing.

"You have nothing to fear in me, my son," Sarek whispered softly.

Finally, he released the control weighing so heavily upon him. "_Sa-mekh_, after T'Pring chose the _kali-fee_, I chose to allow my duties and responsibilities to Starfleet to take precedence over my consideration of another wife."

Sarek watched his son and anger slowly welled inside him, thinking T'Pring a most fortunate woman to live in an age when her betrayal would not necessarily mean her death. To reject his son – a highly eligible, accomplished, and respectable Vulcan male who would grant her the honor and respect that was her due…it was disturbing. He then willed himself to disallow the emotion any further control of him.

"I received a letter from Soran, written by Mother, shortly before her death. In this letter, she asked me to be supportive and encouraging when you found a new bond-mate. She said it might be difficult for me to accept, but I did not realize how correct her assertion was, until now."

This was unexpected. "Elaborate, my son."

"Forgive me, Father," Spock looked at Sarek with troubled eyes, "but I cannot accept her as a replacement for my mother. I mean no disrespect - "

Sarek interrupted him gently. "_Sa-fu_, you are not behaving disrespectfully. You are responding in an understandable manner to an unorthodox situation. Emma is not, and will never be, your mother; nor do I believe she would ever try. She is my wife, and perhaps one day she will bear my child, but she could never replace _your_ mother. I would ask you to consider the obverse of the very equation that troubles you."

Spock looked at him with confusion.

"Are you aware that she was widowed ten years ago?"

"I knew she was previously married, but I did not inquire as to termination of the relationship."

"Did you know that she had a son, born three months prematurely due to an outbreak of Rigellian Influenza? Are you aware that her _uzh-keshtu_ died three days after his birth, in her arms?"

"No, _Sa-mekh_."

"I do not say these things to chastise you, Spock, merely to demonstrate Emma is struggling with her place in our marriage because she feels a conflict between the affection she had for her late husband and that which she has for me. I would never presume to be able to replace him in any way.

"She feels confused about interacting with you because you could never replace the son she lost – and she does not expect you to try. She desires to develop a friendship with you because you are my son, and because she appreciates you. She has expressed this to me very clearly.

"She knows that the two of you have only begun on a pathway that she and I have traveled for quite some time now. I have worked with her in a professional capacity, as a student of music history under her instruction, developed a friendship over time, learned about and met her family – you have not yet. But that, Spock, is the issue: _not yet_."

"Father, how do I approach this concern with her?"

"Perhaps it should not be approached as a concern. You must continue to acknowledge this discomfort for what it is, but I recommend you find ways to engage her such that you both may learn about each other. That is the only way you will be able to determine the depth of the relationship you will have together."

"Understood, _Sa-mekh_."

"Spock, your mother made requests of me also. She asked me to promise not to only exist, but to live my life fully beyond her time. As I learned more about Emma's thought processes, behavior patterns, perspectives, and ethics, I realized she was a person I would prefer to cultivate a friendship with, and I chose to actively pursue that, regardless of whether we would engage one another on a more…personal level.

"I am thankful that I honored your mother's request, because I now approach the future with a realistic, pragmatic viewpoint that has been somewhat lacking since your mother died," Sarek said softly.

They watched as seagulls called to one another as they flew toward the bay.

"Did your mother say anything to you about your own marital status?" Sarek asked.

Spock cast his eyes away from his father.

"I see. May I ask what her thoughts were?"

Spock nodded quietly. "In that same letter, she said that the loneliness you would be experiencing was not healthy for me either, that I was missing life experiences, and that I should consider that which was around me."

Sarek smiled inwardly, his face not revealing his thoughts. Amanda was right about her – she would make a most appropriate bond-mate – if only Spock would realize it. "My son, your mother was most wise. However, I cannot make you see the truth of her words. Consider your _life_ carefully, and you will realize her identity. You must discover this woman for yourself."

"Father, I thank you for your hospitality; this visit has been most interesting, and provided me with much to consider. I must take my leave of you."

"Understood. I am grateful for your visit. Consider what we have discussed today, my son."

"Peace and long life, Father."

Sarek watched his son contact the Intrepid II, and then dissolve away.

Walking back into the kitchen, Sarek cleaned up the dishes and fed Jake, who was doing his feline best to convince Sarek that Emma had been starving him for a week.

"I am not so easily fooled," Sarek said as he measured the food into Jake's bowl. "I saw you eat quite well just this morning." The cat chirped and purred as Sarek placed his bowl on the floor.

After he replaced the food in the pantry, he went to find Emma. He heard the water shower turn on as she began humming to herself. Upon entering the bedroom, he found her packing completed, bags ready, and her calendar lying on the bed with the conference program and itinerary. He glanced at the list of presentations, and noted that she had chosen several to attend.

As he set the conference brochure back into the pages for the month of September, he noticed five days with tiny, red dots on them. He then looked closely and realized that for every previous month she had marked between four and six days with a red dot, all in consecutive order, and twenty-eight days between each instance. He looked at October and realized that there were none where they were supposed to be. According to her highly accurate record-keeping, there should have already been three…

/_K'diwa_?/

/Yes, love?/

/May I join you?/

Momentary silence…followed by amused and sensual thoughts in her mind…

/Mmm…certainly./

After he undressed, he approached the shower curtain, opening it gently to find her smiling at him.

"I never thought you a water-shower person, Sarek."

"I think it could be quite interesting, on occasion," he replied most seriously.

"Indeed?" she smiled in response.

He took a liberal amount of her body wash in his hands and began to wash her neck and back. While he was intending primarily to share a few moments of intimacy with her, he was also seeking to sense any fluctuations in how she felt physically. If he had interpreted the marks on her calendar properly, then he understood the cause for her feeling 'funky', as she called it.

He ran his hands gently down her neck, allowing his fingers to dwell on her skin momentarily. He sensed quickly waking arousal, and the subtle, underlying nausea she had mentioned. He stepped closer to her back and reached his arms around her waist, and began to wash her belly. As his hands moved across her body, he could feel surges of physical activity and change in her lower abdomen that were all too familiar - but that was long, long ago.

Did he dare allow himself to consider the possibility this soon? He moved his hands higher up and started to wash her breasts when she inhaled sharply, and he sensed the tenderness and pain.

"Sarek, not so rough, please," she requested of him, stopping his hands momentarily.

"Forgive me, _t'hy'la_, I did not intend to bring you discomfort," he whispered. He had been very gentle, as always…then he sensed a strong wave of dizziness.

After they finished their shower, he stepped out and after he dried them both, he took her by the hand to their bed. Lying down, he held her in his arms.

"Emma, I glanced at the conference bulletin, and when I put it back in its place, I saw the days you marked each month; twenty-eight days apart, four to six at a time. By your own records, you should already have three marked for the current month, correct?"

She nodded silently.

"Why have you not marked them, _k'diwa_?"

"Because they did not happen. Either the stress of preparations for tonight's concert and for next week's presentation have altered that, or I am late. I am beginning to think it is the latter, because you can practically set a clock by my cycle…well, not anymore."

A protracted silence hung in the air between them. Sarek thought back to the dream of the tiny girl with the long, red curly hair and dark black-brown eyes, the delicate points on her ears, the soft, upwardly inclined eyebrows, and her delighted smile so much like her mother's.

He remembered the shining red-black cap of hair on the son who ran everywhere he went, piercing green eyes set atop a hawk-like nose, and a mind that voraciously consumed everything he encountered.

"_Aduna_, the mere possibility brings me distinct satisfaction. For you to bear my child is a most gracious gift."

An hour later she lay beneath him, her breathing heavy but returning to normal. Their bodies still entwined, his head was buried in her neck as he relished in the lingering end of his own orgasm. He lifted his head and gazed into her emerald pools.

/I love you, Sarek./

/_Tahluk nash-veh, t'hy'la_./

Sunday, 6 October 2295, Vulcan Embassy, 1555 hours

Emma and Terry stood at the transporter pad in the embassy waiting for the signal to step onto it. Emma had beamed many times during her time working at the Mars Colony, but Terry never had, and was understandably anxious. She glanced at the young Vulcan female behind the transporter console and leaned closer to Emma. "Emma, does it hurt?" she whispered.

"No, it doesn't. It tickles, though. Oh, Terry, come here," Emma beckoned her close to her and whispered in her ear, "I thought you should be aware that even when you whisper, Vulcans can hear you. They have remarkably sensitive hearing, especially at conference tables."

The color drained from Terry's face. "That is good to know," she said clearly, and observed as the transporter operator kept herself politely busy so as to not make eye contact or acknowledge she had heard that as well.

The doors opened as Sarek and Soran walked into the room. As Soran initiated contact with the waiting vessel, Sarek observed his wife. She was wearing one of the new robes he had made for her: soft browns, tailored beautifully to her body shape, their family name embroidered on the front panel.

/You look beautiful, _t'hy'la_./

/Thank you./

"Vulcan embassy to USS Intrepid II."

"Intrepid II, go ahead," a young female voice answered.

"Two passengers and cargo ready for transport."

"Stand by, Embassy."

"Affirmative," Soran replied.

Sarek paired fingers with Emma, as the whir began and their luggage and instruments vanished. Terry watched them out of the corner of her eye.

/Emma, I shall await your return to me, and any news that you may bring./

/I am gonna miss you. I will hurry back, promise./

"Embassy, we are ready for transport of passengers."

"Acknowledged," Soran answered, "stand by."

The transporter operator assisted Terry, and then spoke to Emma. "_T'sai_, you will use pad number two."

Emma nodded to her, and Sarek released her to step onto the unit.

"_Mene sakkat ur-seveh, adun_," Emma said softly, her hand raised in the Vulcan salute.

"May your journey be prosperous, and free of peril, my wife."

The light tickling sensation started in her feet. She smiled that particular smile at him, and vanished.

Emma opened her eyes to the brightly lit transporter room of the Intrepid II. She inhaled deeply, and noted the familiar odor of well-filtered, recycled air. Not much had changed since Mars.

"Wow. That was fun." Terry chuckled softly.

"I thought you'd like that." Emma smiled back at her.

A young Vulcan female approached them. "_T'sai_? Mrs. Behrens? I am Yeoman T'Yen. I am assigned to assist you during your travels aboard the Intrepid II."

"_Nemaiyo_, T'Yen, your service honors us," Emma said, formally.

"It is my honor to assist you," she said, looking at Emma briefly. "We are currently on deck nineteen. Please follow me; I will show you to your quarters."

As they entered the hallway, life was busily moving around them in preparation for departure. Yeoman T'Yen directed them to the side of the corridor as three crewmen moved heavy equipment past them with anti-grav units.

"We will leave orbit in eighty-seven minutes," she explained as they continued toward the turbolift. As the doors opened, several crew stepped aside to allow them entrance. "Deck five," she instructed clearly.

A few moments later, the turbolift came to a halt and the doors opened. "Your quarters for the outbound and inbound journeys will be here: deck five, port forward, central corridor."

As they made their way around the deck, Emma noticed the nameplates identifying each room's occupant. They stopped in the hallway, across from Spock's quarters.

"_T'sai_, these are your quarters, and Mrs. Behrens, yours are immediately to the right. You each have a private bedchamber and sitting room, and share bathroom facilities. _T'sai_, Captain Spock will contact you once we have departed space dock. Do you require any further assistance at this time?"

"No, thank you," Emma said. She walked into her quarters, checking out her temporary digs. An hour later, her door chimed.

"Come in."

Terry walked in, animatedly excited. "Emma, they have an observation deck! I'm gonna go watch the dock departure, you wanna come with me?"

Terry's first trip in space was proving to be almost as much fun for Emma to watch as for Terry to experience first-hand. "You are like a kid in a candy shop, and yes, I'd love to. Let's go."

Walking inconspicuously down the hall, and rather ignored for all the preparations taking place, they found their way back to the turbolift. Two crewmen were waiting, and they smiled at the women.

"Can you tell us which deck the observation lounge is on?" Terry asked, excitedly.

"Is it your first trip out, ma'am?" a young Andorian male asked.

Emma piped up in response. "For her, yes; for me, no."

The other crewman, a Human male spoke up. "You can find the lounge on decks ten through twelve, but I personally like the view from deck eleven myself." They boarded the elevator with the crewmen and were on their way.

Stepping off the elevator, they thanked the young men for their assistance, and walked out into a beautiful sight: the lounge was situated such that one could find comfortable seating and see what was around them...it was, after all, an observation deck. Emma walked to the food service unit and ordered two cups of coffee, and then handed one to Terry.

"Em, I wanted to thank you for choosing me to come along with you. This is a journey I will never forget, I should think." She took a sip of the hot beverage. "Mmm, good coffee."

"Terry, you are the only horn player I enjoy working with. Let's hear it for Vivaldi, eh? I just hope that our audience understands the importance of the dialogue in the music." Emma paused as a flush of temperature raced through her.

"Are you ok? You look a little overheated."

"I am ok, I just have been feeling off-kilter. It's the dizziness that bothers me more than anything. It got bad enough in the past couple of days that I thought Sarek would not allow me to go today."

Terry looked at her for a moment. "_Allow? _Emma, seriously? He doesn't strike me as the controlling type. Is that why he makes you walk behind him?"

"Don't misunderstand that, Terry; he isn't controlling of me at all. A bonded Vulcan male perceives his highest priority to be provision for and protection of his wife. She belongs to him, yes, but not in a malicious manner - they don't mistreat their wives."

"What does that mean?"

"It means exactly what it means, my friend. Regarding walking behind him, it's so he is aware of any potential threat to my safety. It is not a disparaging statement of my status in the relationship."

The ship-wide communication alert sounded, and Spock's deep voice resonated. "Attention all passengers and crew: Departure clearance is granted. All hands to final departure stations."

As the ship moved silently through the solar system, Terry was engrossed at the window, overwhelmed with the view of Jupiter on the port side.

Pleased with the performance of his new and very young crew, Spock released the bridge to Commander McGraw and departed for the evening. A moment later, he stepped off the turbolift at deck eleven and walked quietly into the lounge, finding the two women drinking coffee and having a rather enjoyable conversation as Saturn came into view.

Terry inhaled deeply with surprised pleasure as they passed the rings of Saturn. "Emma, my god, it's beautiful."

Emma stood and walked to where she was, looking out with her. "Wow…I have never seen them in person myself…amazing…I understand they're only centimeters thick..."

"Dr. McGregor."

Emma turned around to see Spock standing there quietly, in that oh-so-typical Vulcan posture: his hands held neatly behind his back, feet shoulder-width apart – looking just like his father.

"Hello, Captain. This is Terry Behrens. Terry, this is the ship's captain, Captain Spock."

"Yes, we met at the embassy last week. I am pleased to formally meet you, sir."

"Are your quarters acceptable? Has T'Yen provided you with what you need?"

"Yes, and yes, Captain, thank you," Terry answered.

He nodded to her. "Dr. McGregor, may I have a word with you?"

They watched as Terry left the lounge to them alone.

"What would you like to discuss, Spock?" Emma asked softly.

"Have you had end-meal yet?"

"_Rai_, I have not."

He was fascinated by how even a monosyllabic word could be altered by her accent.

"I would find it agreeable to learn more about you. It is acceptable to me that you bring such satisfaction to my father."

"Spock, I would like that."

"Emma, if you will accompany me, please," he requested of her and departed the lounge.

Moments later they were seated in the officer's mess at a table for two. Yeoman T'Yen approached their table with the meal and served each of them a small bowl of _plomeek_ soup. Emma was trying to respect the customary silence, but could not stand it any longer.

"Spock?"

"Yes?"

"I mean no disrespect to custom, but could we forego silence for now? I would like to make the most of the time we have to talk tonight," she said softly.

He thought for a moment and then nodded. "What would you care to discuss?"

"Well, when I was a child, my Grandfather McLeod would mediate issues between my cousins and me with an interesting metaphor: the elephant in the room." She paused long enough to watch his right eyebrow return to its rightful place.

"You see, people respond differently to the elephant, but it still has control over them, so they do their best to make it go away. Some try to ignore it, so it sits down next to them. Some get angry with it, but its feelings don't get hurt. Some people blame everyone else for letting the beast in to begin with, but the elephant is still there."

"Are you insinuating that a metaphysical pachyderm accompanies us?"

"Indeed I am."

"Am I correct to assume you have a solution for our rubenesque metaphorical dilemma?" he asked, secretly pleased at her reaction.

She had to take a moment to recover from the question. Like his father, Spock had quite a sense of humor, if one just knew how to look, and then did so with the right set of eyes.

"Rubenesque…metaphorical," she began, chuckling.

"…dilemma," he finished for her.

"I propose we talk about your mother, and commit to doing the very best we can to honor and respect each other because it's the right thing to do; but most importantly, because it grants honor and respect to Sarek, for he is the one who will bear the burden of our efforts, for good or ill."

Spock put his spoon down and just looked at her. She met his gaze.

"Our success brings honor to Amanda, and that means just as much to me," she finished.

"Did you know my mother?" he asked so quietly she almost could not hear him.

"Yes, in fact, I did. Fairly well, I would say."

"In what capacity?"

"She was my language tutor," she said, pausing with a smile when his surprise was faster than his ability to hide it. "Don't be surprised by that. I have been on the receiving end of her wrath regarding my accent on numerous occasions. In fact, in a fit of heightened frustration with me, she once told me I would make a remarkable linguist if I chose to overcome it."

"When were you on Vulcan? Your dossier did not specify that time."

"I never was. She worked with me while I was at Harvard. The university paid for my subspace calls to her, and she paid for her calls to me. My advisors at Harvard told me that a 'scholarship' had been made available to pay for her calls; they said that to keep me from asking where the money was coming from. The worst of it for me was just after I started working at the embassy this March, I learned that was not the case."

"How long did this continue?" he asked.

"Six years," she replied.

"Six years of subspace calls? The cost must have been extraordinary."

"It was, and when I learned there was no 'scholarship', I did my own calculations and went to Sarek to speak with him about my repaying it. He would not hear of it, forgave the debt, and would not speak of it again, saying only that it was Amanda's desire to see me receive the very best assistance. He said it was her nature, and he considered it a closed matter."

"It was her nature to teach those who showed great promise. Many students sought her out, and very few ever realized the extent of what they were capable of achieving under her instruction," he said, remembering his mother tenderly.

"Amanda had a genuine heart for teaching, and I will tell you that she was the best teacher I ever had, Spock. She was my _Osavensu_. More importantly, she was my friend."

They became quiet as T'Yen served _balkra_ sautéed with onions and garlic. Emma nodded thanks to her.

"Spock, Amanda's death was devastating for me, personally, but I cannot imagine how it was to you. Please know: _tushah nash-veh, k'odu_."

Her choice of placing him in a higher social status than herself was intentional and he knew it; a tremendous sign of respect coming from she who was the wife-of-his-father, and very much wanted a positive relationship with him.

"_Nemaiyo_, Emma. You honor me."

"I only offer that which is your due; I have profound respect for you. After you called to speak to your father last week and I didn't know who you were – which was horrifying for me, by the way – Sarek told me the details of your visit, and that he had forwarded my dossier to you."

Spock listened carefully to her.

She continued. "In a moment of irritation, I asked him if he was ever going to allow me the same look at you, or if I was to remain ignorant of the family I had married into. I managed to offend him, I think. He gave me your dossier, and also showed me decades of family holopics and the scrapbooks Amanda made." She paused to dry her eyes. "I think it was the first time he had actually been in a place where he had to address his grief openly. To share sixty-seven years of life experiences with someone is not easily set aside."

"No, it is not," he answered softly. A long silence hovered around them.

"I suppose what I am trying to say is there is absolutely no possible way I could ever replace your mother, and I realize that, Spock. No one in the universe could; she was too profoundly unique to be so easily tossed aside. I hope that I can assure you in some small way that I would never attempt to assume that place in your life, especially out of mere social custom and position of rank I had received only by marriage. It is my sincere wish to earn both your respect and trust."

Spock sat quietly, his meal untouched. "You have already begun to do so."

Sarek sat on the balcony, but not in his chair. It brought him an odd and illogical comfort to sit in hers. He had just finished eating a meal he had not originally intended to consume.

Two hours earlier he was reading when the com-unit chimed quietly. He answered it to find a message set on timed delivery from Emma to him.

_Hello My Love,_

_I am sending this on time delay to you simply because I have a suspicion you will not eat dinner alone this evening. Since I much prefer your receiving proper nutrition, I am personally requesting that you go to the stasis unit and choose any of the meals I have prepared for you. There are enough for end-meal each night. I will worry if I think you are not eating,_ adun. _I will speak with you soon._

He cleaned his dishes and then prepared for bed. Jake had assumed a more congenial role and was accompanying him everywhere he went, to an almost annoying degree. When he'd stepped into the bathroom, shutting the door as usual, he learned that was not an acceptable proposition for the cat.

He watched a black and white paw wiggle under the door frame, turn itself upside down, and curl up under the door and move it as much as it would be back and forth. Emma called that 'knocking to be let in' but would never give in to the feline's demands, and Sarek decided he would not yield either.

After his evening meditation, Sarek prepared a cup of tea and the com-unit chimed once again. He answered it, internally pleased to see the face of an old friend.

"Good evening, Daniel."

"Hello Sarek. How is Earth?"

"It is as you left it long ago."

"That is good to know. I received your message asking to speak to me."

"Daniel, if it is not an imposition, I would ask your assistance."

"Anything, Sarek. It is my honor to serve."

"The Intrepid II will assume standard orbit around Nisus at approximately 1700 hours Tuesday evening. Would you assist Emma in finding her accommodations and becoming familiar with her surroundings?"

"Certainly – one moment please, Sarek."

Sarek heard the sound of several people entering Daniel's office. In the background he saw Daniel's bond-mate T'Mir and her father Sorel. He could hear them speaking together for a moment, and then Sorel joined Daniel at the com-unit.

"Sarek, it is agreeable to see you again," Sorel said.

"Sorel, peace and long life to you."

"We will meet _T'Sai_ Emma at the transporter terminal upon her arrival. However, we ask that you allow us the honor of hosting her in our home. We will ensure her needs are accounted for."

"Your hospitality is most generous, I thank you. I will communicate the alteration in her accommodations to her before her arrival."

Sorel nodded.

"There is one matter I would bring to your attention. Emma has not been feeling well over the past six days. She visited with Healer T'Pola and the results of that visit were updated in her medical records. She will bring those to you."

Daniel chimed in. "What are her symptoms, Sarek?"

"She has had moments of difficulty with her equilibrium, and her appetite has been rather diminished. As she would say, she experienced 'several rare moments of having to choose to eat'. She has described a subtle nausea as well."

"Have you sensed anything, Sarek?" Sorel asked directly, ignoring the wide grin forming on Daniel's face.

"Yes, I have." He paused a moment. "The changes are happening in her body, I am certain of it. I am concerned for her physical and emotional well being in this matter."

"What brings you such concern, Sarek?" Daniel asked, worried by the turn of what should be a time of potential celebration.

"Emma gave birth to a son ten years ago. His delivery was three months premature due to her contracting Rigellian Influenza, and he died three days after his birth. It was a very difficult experience for her."

Daniel stole a subtle glance at Sorel, who had become imperceptibly difficult to read.

"Sarek," Sorel spoke, "she will have our very best efforts."

Tuesday, 8 October 2295, Nisus

Emma and Terry stood quietly in the transport facility on Nisus. As they were clearing through Customs, they exited the controlled area to find Terry's brother and sister-in-law waiting for her. After she was on her way, Emma stood, PADD in hand, in front of the large information terminal, trying to determine exactly where she was, who she was supposed to meet, and how she would know them when she saw them. She had no idea they were approaching, observing her.

"That has to be her," Daniel commented. "That is the reddest hair I have ever seen on Human. She's tall, too."

Sorel approached her. "_T'Sai_?" he asked politely.

She turned to one of the taller Vulcans she had ever seen, eyes so dark even she could not read them. "_Ha_, _S'haile_?"

"I am Sorel. This is my colleague Daniel Corrigan," he said, looking into the greenest eyes he had ever seen, beautifully accented by her robes.

"I am Emma McGregor _aduna_ Sarek. Please call me Emma. I am honored to meet each of you," she said with her endearing smile.

"Emma, it's a pleasure. Have you eaten yet?" Daniel asked.

"No, I haven't. I thank you for your hospitality during my stay."

After a pleasant and satisfying meal, they journeyed to Sorel's home and found his bond-mate T'Kar waiting for them.

"I regret my wife and I will be unable to attend your presentation Thursday morning. I have two scheduled surgeries and she has a shift to work at the hospital," Sorel said. "I am very interested in your research. Please summarize."

"I have been studying the linguistic development of languages within species utilizing auditory communication from two standpoints: one, the rhythmic meter of spoken language; the other, the influence of ambient sound in the native environment upon its development."

"Fascinating," T'kar said. "How many species demonstrate these characteristics?"

"Forty-four of forty-seven. They all derive sound development from their environments, and have a uniquely defined rhythmic flow. The presentation will demonstrate three of them: Terran, Vulcan, and Andorian. I am afraid the limit on time restricts the number I can present."

"This is very interesting," Daniel said. "How will you demonstrate these commonalities?"

"Through rhythmic cadences I will perform myself. The concept I am developing is enhancing the understanding of cognition and perception of linguistic ideas through musical reference points. We all utilize rhythm in a relatively constant manner, while harmony, melody and other musical concepts vary greatly from one species to the next. I have composed these cadences based upon universally accepted literary works from each of the three planets.

"My duet partner journeyed here with me, and we will play a duet for horn to express the Human concept of spontaneous dialogue as well. It will begin with a musical idea, and we will basically compose on the spot in what is called spontaneous improvisation. Sorel, if you and T'Kar would like to hear these things, and your schedule will allow it, we have a dress rehearsal tomorrow evening," she offered.

"We will attend it," she answered for them.

Daniel and T'Mir stood quietly. "Thank you for dinner, Sorel. We are headed home for the evening. Emma, see you later," he said.

Later in the evening, Emma sat in the living room reading quietly when T'Kar spoke to her. "_T'Sai_, you have a call. You may take it in the study."

"Thank you," she replied with a small nod to her hostess.

She walked into the study and closed the door and smiled as she saw him. "Hi, there."

"Greetings, my wife. I trust your journey was safe?"

"Yes, very much so; I was in good hands. How has end-meal been for you?"

"Most satisfying, thank you. I am curious, when did you have the time to prepare everything? You have been quite busy."

"Sarek, if I tell that secret, I will lose my mystique and intrigue." She smiled at him as she teased him.

He regarded her seriously, and her smile faded away. "_T'hy'la_, that is not possible. Those characteristics will remain with you always."

"You know Sarek, with that kind of pillow talk, it's a tragedy we aren't sharing the same pillow tonight."

"Agreed."

She cleared her throat and willed _those _thoughts out of her mind. "How is life with your new roommate?"

"He is rather demanding in the evenings, but essentially he is quite easy to get along with. I awoke this morning to find him asleep against my chest. He does look for you though. As do I. I have become accustomed to having you at my side."

"I will be there with you again very soon, my love. It's getting late here, so I will retire. I will contact you after my appointment on Friday."

"Until Friday, _K'diwa_. Sarek out."

Friday, 11 October 2295, Nisus Medical Complex

The response to her presentation had been greater than expected amidst some very strong skepticism. She found the conference to be an overall success both as a presenter and an attendee, and received requests for a reprisal performance later Thursday evening.

As she made her way through the enormous complex of buildings, she found herself both afraid of and excited by what would possibly come from her appointment. She began to work her way down the hall, finally arriving at a desk manned by a Deltan female.

"May I help you?" she asked.

"Yes please. I have an appointment with Healer Sorel and Dr. Corrigan, in five minutes."

"Your name, please?"

"McGregor, Emma."

"Hmm," she crooned in soothing Deltan tones, "are you certain it is today?"

"Yes ma'am, quite certain. My husband made the appointment for me. Could you look for it under the name 'Sarek', please? I would hate to think I traveled from Earth for nothing," Emma said with a chuckle.

"Yes, that would be a disappointment. Ah, it is listed under Emma McGregor Sarek. Please proceed to the last door on the right."

Emma nodded and found Daniel's office. She was about to push the call button when the door opened, with him coming through it.

"Ah, Emma, there you are. We were about to come look for you. Come on in."

"My apologies. I was having difficulty getting past your gatekeeper. She could not find my name."

"Erteya is an excellent gatekeeper," Daniel smiled. "Emma, we are gonna do a full physical this morning, run tests, that sort of thing. We will begin when you are ready."

She handed her medical chip to Sorel and he promptly downloaded her information into the waiting file.

As they inspected for any and every issue that might present difficulties for a pregnancy, they began asking a multitude of what she considered to be very personal questions. But she answered them anyway; the date of her last cycle; frequency of intercourse; was there any pain or difficulty during; any allergic reactions; history of pregnancies, …so on and so forth.

The most enlightening moment of revenge for the loss of her dignity (in her mind) came when Sorel strongly questioned the causation of what appeared to be 'a very pronounced, round bruise on her inner right thigh, near the pelvis'.

Knowing exactly how it got there, she decided to behave badly…it was all she had left. She tried to ignore the question altogether, and Daniel shook his head quietly as he continued running scans, checking tissue samples, and waited for her answer. He knew how it got there; he'd given a couple himself. But Sorel evidently hadn't, and he asked for clarification a second time.

"_Ohakausu_, perhaps it would be better to ask my husband, for I am quite certain I did not do that to myself."

Daniel sat still, and struggled to stifle laughter as his eyes traveled from the scanner to Sorel's face. While it never changed, the tips of his ears turned pale green, and without another word he quickly moved on the next battery of tests.

Once they had completed the exam and were awaiting the results, she spoke up. "Dr. Corrigan, may I make a suggestion?"

"Yep."

"You really should put a list of conversation topics on the ceiling so women have something to think about while in a compromising position."

Before Daniel could make a smart remark, the door opened.

Sorel walked in with the results of the morning's work. "Emma, today's test results have verified that you are pregnant at this time."

For the first time in her adult life, she did not know what to say. She just looked at him, as if he were some oddity found drifting in space. In her mind, part of her knew it was true. Her cycle never happened, the symptoms were classic, but part of her had not really believed it possible.

"You're serious?" she asked. "You are really serious? My God, what are the odds?"

"The odds were extraordinarily low. Nonetheless, it has occurred. T'Kar is preparing the dietary supplements you must take each day. The fetus will require hormones not readily offered by your body. Before your departure tomorrow, we will meet once more to discuss what we must do over the term of this pregnancy to give this child the best possible chance for survival."

She nodded slowly and turned to Daniel who sat with his hands in his lap.

"You ok?" he asked her gently.

"Yeah, I just…" She slowed to a stop mid-sentence.

"Just what, Emma? What do you need right now?"

"Sarek," she said, gently running her hand across her lower abdomen

"I will get him on the com, ok? Sit tight," Daniel said as he patted her shoulder gently and walked out of the room.

A few moments later, he walked in, activated the monitor at the desk, and then went to her. "He is waiting to talk to you. Take the time you need. I will be in Sorel's office when you're done."

Once the door closed, tears started to run down her face as she sat down in front of the monitor.

"_Aduna_?" Sarek asked, growing concerned by her silence.

"Sarek..." She paused

It seemed to her that a thousand different thoughts were flying through her mind at once, like leaves in a gust of wind, and she could not focus on one of them.

"What troubles thee, _K'diwa_?"

She looked into the screen, wishing she could have his arms around her. "We're going to have a baby. I came here to find out what we needed to prepare in order to make one, and apparently we already have," she said, smiling, but her seriousness betrayed her.

He saw a vulnerability she had not revealed before. "Are you displeased?"

"I could not be happier, love, but I am very frightened. What if I do something stupid that hurts this little one? I cannot bear the thought of losing another." She stopped when he softly interrupted her.

"Emma, it is illogical to assign such results when the circumstances are so very different. William's death was not your fault. You must accept that."

The tears finally slowed and she tried to blow her nose quietly, but failed. Sarek watched her carefully as she considered what he said. "Sarek, I realize that but I will always have a place in my heart that aches from his absence…in ten years it's improved, yes, but it won't ever go away."

"Must it? I do not believe we are intended to forget those who depart before us, especially those closest to us," he answered softly.

"I feel confused right now," she said quite frankly.

"Then start with each feeling, one at a time," he suggested in that sweet, gentle tone that he reserved for her alone.

"I am overjoyed…terrified…curious…afraid…a little irritated…nervous…inspired. Someone is growing inside of me right now, and that is amazing. That someone is half you and half me and I can't wait to meet him or her. How are you with this, Sarek?"

"I am very concerned about your well-being and that of our child; nevertheless, I cannot express the profound satisfaction I am experiencing at this moment. It pleases me to give myself to you in the creation of our child – that we can offer our House a gift so representative of IDIC. _Nemaiyo, aduna t'nash-veh_."

"I need to come home. I need you."

"Monday will arrive in due time. Listen carefully to all that Sorel and Daniel instruct you to do, Emma. Heed their guidance. _Tahluk nash-veh. Th'y'la_."

"Goodbye…I love you," she replied.

He watched her signal fade to an empty screen as the connection to Nisus ended. He sat down in her favorite chair and thought of the care and precautions that would need to be taken in the early months of this pregnancy. A child – a gift he did not expect again in his lifetime. While he had been honest when he told her he was not scared, he was filled with concern.

It was very likely that she would require heightened observation, and unless he were to conduct his official business from Nisus, which was completely out of the question, it was very likely he would not see her for quite some time. That was unacceptable. Strong and long-dormant protective urges began to rise deep inside him, and he chose to enter a period of meditation. Perhaps a preemptive solution would present itself.

The next morning, Emma found herself sitting in the garden behind Sorel's home, thinking about everything that had transpired. Her meeting with Sorel and Daniel had defined a very harsh reality for her: that she would have to spend a great deal of time on Nisus for the care the tiny fetus to ensure its development. She knew it was a necessity, but did not wish to be gone from Sarek that long, and it was a near-certainty that she would never see her father alive again. She leaned forward and rubbed her temples slowly.

T'Kar observed her in the garden. "_Adun_, Emma appears unwell."

"She must remain here for an extended period of time. Daniel suggests it is discouraging for her."

Before she could respond, the com-unit rang softly. Sorel answered it to find Sarek waiting. "Sarek, peace and long life to you," Sorel greeted.

"You as well, my old friend. I would speak with you," Sarek requested. "What are your instructions for the safety of my wife and child?"

"We must begin to administer bio-chemical treatment very soon to encourage proper development of the fetus' internal organs. She will require monitoring and bio-scans every twelve hours, her dietary needs must evaluated on a daily basis, as the strain of fetal development upon her body may cause her metabolism to de-stabilize. Additionally, we must ensure that she is able to maintain a suitable uterine environment for the next seven months, as it is the earliest the child can survive a premature delivery, if it were to occur.

"Provided the fetus survives that minimum threshold and her health does not deteriorate, these requirements will be re-evaluated and adjusted appropriately. She simply cannot be left in the hands of an obstetrician with no knowledge of the complexities of this situation. As such, Emma must remain here on Nisus for a minimum period of six months. As now, she is a welcomed guest of our family, and we would be honored if she were to accept our hospitality. We find her to be a most interesting Human."

"I would ask you to consider an alternative. I am aware of the medical necessity of the supervision; however, I would request a different location for its provision."

"What do you suggest?" Sorel asked.

"I would request your services at the embassy as Emma's physician. I will compensate you well and see that your needs are met. I realize that you are established in your practice on Nisus, but I ask you to consider this alternative for an additional reason."

"That being?" he asked.

"Emma's father is dying from a resistant form of brain cancer. He was treated at the Vulcan Science Academy, unsuccessfully," Sarek replied.

Sorel's left eyebrow rose into his hair. "Indeed? That is most unusual. What is the prognosis?"

"His prognosis is now between six and twelve months, and I have concern that during the last of those, he will not be himself. Emma certainly wishes to share this remaining time with him inasmuch as possible. If she remains on Nisus, I believe she will not see him alive deal with death and grief very differently than we, and I am, concerned, that the stress of that experience will pose a hazard to her health through the later stages of this pregnancy," he said.

Sorel paused for a moment, and then nodded. "Agreed. I will accompany her to Earth this evening. I must speak with Daniel regarding my patients, and prepare for the journey. _Dif-tor heh smusma_, Sarek."

"_Nemaiyo_, Sorel. Your service honors me. I will speak with Emma now," Sarek requested.

A moment later, she appeared in the doorway and saw him waiting for her. A surge of sadness welled up, but she was determined to speak with him anyway. "Hello, Sarek. I assume you spoke with Sorel about our meeting this morning?"

"Yes. However, the arrangements have changed, _Aduna_. I find a six-month delay in your return unacceptable. Therefore, Sorel has agreed to a temporary posting with us at the embassy as your physician. He will monitor the pregnancy, perform necessary procedures, assist at your delivery, and see to our child's recovery afterward. T'Pola will support him in these matters."

"But what about his family, and his patients here? I cannot allow this, Sarek; it's a massive interruption. To be very honest, the needs of this one do not outweigh the needs of the many here."

"_Aduna_, you also are one of his patients, and he is prepared to walk each step of this experience with us. Daniel and the other physicians will absorb the patients he normally treats, and he will return to them at the appropriate time. He is very concerned with your health and safety. For Vulcans, a child is a priceless treasure. Life must be preserved," he replied.

T'Kar stood in the doorway of their bedroom watching her _adun_ pack. "Your service honors them, _t'hy'la_."

"I have known Sarek all of my life," Sorel replied. "His very request honors me. T'Mir and Daniel will be here to assist you with any needs you have, _k'diwa_. I will return to thee." He paired his fingers to hers, his inscrutable black eyes searching her blue ones. "_Tahluk nash-veh, Aduna_."


	6. Tomato Sandwiches

New: Life After Death, Chapter 6

By: T'Ashalik

Rating: M

Sa/f

Disclaimer: not mine, no money for it, yada yada yada…

Life was returning to normal at the embassy – as much as it could. As Emma rose each morning, Sorel visited her before breakfast for a medical scan that input hundreds of bits of data into an enormous chart of information that guided his every choice in her treatment. This exercise was repeated again twelve hours later…every day.

Initially embarrassed for him to see her right out of bed, one morning she realized that not even he was impervious to her bed head, and she began to relish each morning's visit, even though he never said anything about it. With Sorel a most convenient target, it was the only way she could fight back against a situation that left her feeling miserably ill and out of control.

Their first week back had been the most tumultuous, as this was the most serious stage of embryonic development: the internal organ structures were forming. The assistive procedure Sorel performed required more than twenty-six hours of continuous manipulation of subtle chemical levels, introduction of amino acid chains, protein complexes, all followed by two weeks of complete bed rest for her recovery afterward.

Sarek had proven a formidable opponent when she tried to rationalize her way out of bed for anything that wasn't an absolute necessity, and she did try. Lying around all day was not her idea of a good time, and she was quick to express her frustrations with him.

Wednesday, 16 October 2295

"Sarek, I just want to sit on the balcony, for the love of God," she snapped, and immediately wished she had not responded to him in such a manner.

"Why do you insist on behaviors that have the potential to harm our child?" he asked, just looking at her as if she were clinically insane.

"I don't wish to harm our child, Sarek. That is a bit dramatic, don't you think? I am just tired of lying down all day, doing nothing. If I have to do this for the duration of the pregnancy, you may very well want to sever this bond, 'cause I don't see how you'll be able to live with me."

For the first time in their relationship, she saw tangible hurt glance across his face, and then disappear behind a stony wall as his feelings over their bond shut down. After a controlled breath, he spoke quietly. "_Aduna_, I would not sever our bond simply because you were understandably disagreeable for a time. It would take much more than that and I am quite certain you are not capable of such cruelty. I must meditate; please excuse me."

He then turned and departed the room as she lay in their bed and wept for nearly an hour, feeling frustrated and uncharacteristically mean. She wished she could rewind what just happened and articulate her anger differently, but it was too late.

He returned at noon with mid-meal, to find her sound asleep, surrounded by used tissues, her eyes swollen from crying. He could sense over the bond how sick she felt, and knew that if she were able to eat even a portion of the meal he prepared for her, she would most likely become ill, not being able to keep it down. He felt sympathy for her in this state.

Sorel entered the apartment to find Sarek standing in the doorway with the tray for her, watching her sleep. He could see the mess of used tissues around her, and decided to ask about the morning's goings on.

"Is she still feeling ill? The monitoring system indicated an elevated heart rate and a substantial rise in blood pressure."

"Yes, quite," Sarek answered. "I have sensed over our bond that she does not understand why she is experiencing such intense symptoms. Her first pregnancy was not like this at all, and I believe that is contributing to the agitation she is exhibiting."

"Indeed?" Sorel remarked, running another medical scan for curiosity's sake. "The hormone levels she is enduring can cause unpredictability in her emotional responses. Has she demonstrated any unusual interactive behaviors?"

"That is an accurate description," Sarek answered dryly, to be addressed by one raised eyebrow.

"Sarek, remember that her body is experiencing profound upheaval, and it may be very challenging for her. All data suggests that this will improve over time," Sorel said quietly, and then left them alone.

He nodded at his friend's encouragement. He set the tray down on the night table and began to clean up the aftermath of her weeping. As he reached over her belly for one last stray tissue, she stirred and opened her eyes to find him there, wastebasket in one hand, yucky tissue in the other.

"_T'hy'la_, how are you feeling?" he asked, quickly disposing of the discarded tissue.

"I am ok." She looked at him and then away again. "I am sorry I was rude to you this morning."

He sat down on the edge of the bed and placed the wastebasket on the floor. He held her hand in his, and remained quiet as she scooted over to him for a hug.

"I've never been so sick, and I am not responding well to anything," she said quietly. "But that doesn't mean I get to be cranky with you. I would not ever want to sever our bond. Please forgive me," she said, tears starting again.

"Emma, the cause is sufficient," he said as kissed her ear gently. "Let us put it behind us. I have brought mid-meal."

Sunday, 24 November 2295

"Sarek! You have to come see this," she exclaimed over the com-unit from the embassy medical suite. "Little Blobby is beautiful!"

Sarek acknowledged her message, wondering why she felt compelled to give their child nonsense names. He knew it helped her to have less anxiety about the baby's health, and her sense of humor _was_ beginning to return. So rather than invoke her frustration again, he accepted the names for what they were. 'Blobby' was Emma's response to the first detailed scans of their tiny embryo. She decided it looked like a blob… hence the name.

Now proceeding through the ninth week of her pregnancy, Emma was having fewer bouts of illness, and Sarek was relieved to regain his wife, albeit one day at a time. He stood next to her, scrutinizing the scans of the tiny creature.

"Sorel, how big is the baby now?" she asked.

"Approximately two centimeters in length, the size of a table grape."

Sarek immediately recognized the look on her face: she was thinking of a new name. He wondered what it would be and her justification for it.

"Vinnie! That's it! Blobby's new name is Vinnie." she exclaimed with glee.

They stood, waiting for the ensuing explanation as each right eyebrow rose in nearly palpable anticipation.

"Oh, this one's easy…grapes…wine…vino…Vinnie…ugh, hopeless, the both of you!" she scoffed, smiling at them both.

Sorel turned and entered more data into the computer. "Most illogical, Emma."

"I beg to differ, _ohakausu_. It makes perfect sense," she smiled.

Sarek paired his fingers to hers. /My wife, your creativity knows no bounds./

/Thank you. At least _someone _around here appreciates it…/

Thursday, 19 December 2295

The week had been long and wrought with stress. Sarek's work on the Verellian treaty – all four years of it – had evidently been for naught. When it came time to sit together and sign the peace accord, the ambassador of Verellian III decided to insult the ambassador from Verellian IV, and he subsequently walked out of the meeting. That was Monday afternoon.

Undaunted, Sarek worked tirelessly for three days to negotiate an alternative, and it was finally coming to a resolution. While he certainly preferred to negotiate in a calm and rational manner, sometimes alternatives were necessary. As he sat in the common dining hall eating mid-meal with Emma, she chatted about what was happening with her students.

"…so T'Naara has completed her part of the composition for the concert in May, and Savel has agreed to play the _kolchak _with us. I did not know he was such an accomplished flute player. Also, Sulok has begun teaching me to play the _vluhn_," she said with a satisfied smile.

"Indeed? He has not taken students for several years. I think you will find those drums quite a challenge," he paused, "for a while, at least."

He touched his fingers to hers, and she became aware of the elevation of his stress level. She knew he was not completely engaged in the conversation, and that was unusual. She decided to change the subject.

"Sarek, can you talk about it?" she asked, concerned.

"The Verellian Treaty negotiations failed on Monday because one party is apparently unable to think before he speaks; His bigotry flows to all around him, unedited, unchecked. The other party walked away from the signing ceremony."

"Well, it sounds like the first party needs a reminder of their purpose. I think they may have forgotten their responsibilities."

She stopped to take another bite of what seemed to her to be the _best_ tomato sandwich she had ever eaten. "This is a wonderful sandwich," she said with her mouth full.

He was amused by that, as every tomato sandwich in the past week had earned that title. "I was unaware of your appreciation for them. It has revealed itself in recent days."

"Have I eaten a lot of them?" she asked, mid-chew. "Sarek – have I?"

"Eight in the past five days, not including this one," he replied. "However, both Sorel and I agree it is better for you to eat them than to be unable to eat anything. It pleases me that your appetite has returned, _aduna._ We are concerned with your weight loss."

"Well, if I keep on these for a while, you will have to worry about my weight for another reason. Wait a minute," she paused and looked at him pointedly, "you keep track of what I'm eating?"

"Of course."

"Really?" she asked with poorly masked irritation.

"Emma, it is to ensure that your nutritional needs are being met fully."

"Hmm," she replied. "So, back to the treaty…I know what I would want to do if I were in your position."

"What is that?" he asked. Her methods of problem-solving were very Human: irrational, illogical, and quite often highly successful.

"Speak with the offender privately and call him out. I mean, even I know about the numbers of citizens killed in the decades of that conflict. It's on the news frequently. I might just ask him why he is there, if he is only seeking to sabotage the efforts for peace, and demand an explanation of why it is more profitable for him to not comply. Think about it: it's candid, personal, and to the point," she answered, beginning to work on a small salad.

He sat in his office, eyes closed, his hands steepled in front of him, waiting for the appointment time to arrive. A knock on the door brought him out of a meditative trance, drawing his eyes to Soran.

"The ambassador from Verellian III is here, sir."

"Bring him in, Soran."

Sarek stood by his conference table and gestured to the chair when Ambassador Fol'vin entered the room. As they seated themselves, Sarek employed what he privately referred to as the 'McGregor Gambit'. He waited for eight point four seven minutes, until the very moment Fol'vin began to fidget in his chair as his long tail was sweeping slowly across the floor behind him.

Sarek then careful pushed a PADD across the table. "Access this, please, Ambassador."

Fol'vin reached out with a scaled, three-fingered hand and opened what he recognized to be intelligence photographs of Verellian IV, immediately following a raiding sortie. He looked at each of the images – brutal documentation of the atrocities of war. He paused at the last one.

It was all that remained of a school building, razed to the ground. Scattered carelessly about were the cruelly damaged bodies of more than one hundred children…no survivors, no prisoners...butchered where they stood. They were innocents, not trained soldiers. Fol'vin's snake-like eyes flickered and re-opened, his gaze fixed upon the picture.

Sarek watched his pupils dilate slightly, and then spoke quietly. "Do you have any children, Ambassador?"

"Yes, I do. Three sons and a daughter," he replied, the universal translator effortlessly converting his own language to Standard. "They are all grown, except my daughter. She is fourteen." He continued to look at the dead children, and then his tail fell still.

"Are they on Verellian III?"

"No," Fol'vin answered. "My sons are working in a colonization effort of Verellian V. My daughter attends her schooling off-planet. It is safer that way."

"How fortunate for her that you are able to provide that luxury," Sarek answered. "What is her name, Fol'vin?"

A moment passed as his eyes remained upon the photo. "Ghil'aan. She is a delightful child... creative and very gentle."

"Is she any more so than the children you have yet to look away from were, Ambassador?"

Fol'vin finally set his gaze upon Sarek. "No. When did this happen? I know of all activities authorized within our military. This is unfamiliar to me, and most certainly the handiwork of my soldiers."

"This took place eleven hours ago, Fol'vin. I am compelled to ask you a question." Sarek paused, choosing his words carefully. "Why did you come to the ceremony Monday?"

"To sign the agreement; why else would I come?"

"I discern no logic in any other reasoning. Why did you taunt Ambassador Veled as you did? How does that serve peace? How does that serve those that chose you to represent them?"

Fol'vin looked at Sarek quietly. "What is your point, Sarek?"

"How many thousands have perished in the decades of battle between your peoples? How many children lay slaughtered? How many women have been enslaved or violated? Are you willing to assign another generation into such traumatic existence simply because you cannot hold your tongue for a personal moment of bigotry that passes through your mind? Do you realize that if you had not chosen to act as such, those children would be alive at this very moment?

"I gain nothing from the success or failure of this treaty negotiation. However, you will gain or lose everything. When this meeting is concluded, I will return to my wife. She and I shall continue to prepare for the birth of our child. Each day, I will conduct my government's business, but in all things, I will not have the blood of those innocent children to account for. If we have nothing further to discuss, I will attend to other obligations. Good day, Ambassador."

Without waiting for a response, Sarek stood and walked out of his office, retreating to the meditation chamber.

Fol'vin sat quietly for a moment, and then went to Soran. "I would use a com-unit," he said.

Soran showed him to the conference room and left him in solitude. After a short and aggressive message to his military commanders ordering a cessation of hostilities, he dialed another com-code. After a moment, his daughter appeared on the monitor.

"Hi, Daddy!"

"Hello, Ghil'aan. How are you?" he asked gently.

"I am fine. Mother says you will be home for the Forefather's Day Celebration. Is that true?" she asked excitedly.

"Yes, I will be," he replied.

"I can't wait to see you. I made something for you." She held up a small, intricately carved wooden vase in the monitor for him to see. "Do you like it?"

"I will gladly place that on my desk. I should be proud to display it to those who visit me," he said, realizing those children would never talk to their parents again. "Ghil'aan, I have a request of you."

"Anything," she replied.

As he observed her, he could see she had the look of her mother. He wondered how many of those children had that same tendency.

"I must ask you to forgive me…"

After the call to his daughter had ended, Fol'vin placed a call to Veled of Verellian IV.

"Veled, may I speak with you?"

"Have you come up with more ways to question the legitimacy of my mother's hatching? Perhaps you would like a shot at me from behind? Or would you like coordinates to another schoolyard?" Veled hissed angrily, his voice elevating beyond control. "Honestly Fol'vin, this is a new low, even for you. You murdered one hundred seven children, you butcher!"

"Veled, I authorized a reconnaissance operation, not a raid. I have already ordered our armies to stand down. The past is the past, and my ancestors will hold me accountable for the deaths of those children. I formally request that we resume negotiations for peace. I will sign the treaty today if you wish it. This violence will not continue any further."

Veled sat down into his chair abruptly, stunned by the offer. "You are serious? No tricks, no games?"

"No games, no tricks. I swear it," Fol'vin replied.

"On what will you swear such that I can believe your words?" Veled asked skeptically.

"My daughter's life, for it shall be preserved to the loss of my own."

Emma sat with Sarek on the couch in the light of the firepot recounting the afternoon's marked success.

"… the treaty is signed, and all military activities have ceased," he finished.

"Sarek, I am proud of you. Whatever you said to him must have been profound."

The com-unit chimed, and, answering it, he found Murron smiling at him.

"Murron, good evening."

"To you also, Sarek. Ken asked me to confirm that you will arrive at the shuttle pad tomorrow afternoon at 1600 hours. Is that still the plan?" she inquired.

"Affirmative."

"Good, I will tell him. He will be waiting for you. Sarek, on another matter, I need to let you know that Will's health is declining. He has lost a lot of weight", she paused momentarily, "and we are beginning to see the effects of the tumors."

"Elucidate."

"He is sleeping a lot for one, and he is also having difficulties with spatial coordination. We ate dinner with them tonight, and I watched him trying to open the door at the restaurant." She sighed, her eyes welling. "He kept trying to grasp the doorknob, but he could not reach it. Anna had to guide his hand to actually make contact with it."

Sarek listened silently as he contemplated Anna's preservation of her husband's dignity.

"He is having severe headaches now, too. The trouble is that he won't ask for medication – he is too stubborn. Emma will know as soon as she is near him. Sarek, please – try to prepare her for this. It's going to be a shock for her."

He nodded.

Ken joined Murron at the unit and offered a poorly performed _ta'al_ to Sarek in greeting. "I don't think I will ever get that right. Sarek, congratulations on the Verellian Treaty. Whatever you said to old Fol'vin must have been pretty important. He has always been a hard one to work with…very unpredictable. You have done a great service to that system."

"It is my honor to serve. I would address another topic with you, please."

"Of course," she answered, revealing the smile that was evidently possessed by all of the McLeod women.

"Regarding Jenny – has she chosen a university yet?" he asked.

"No, I am afraid not. The colleges here on Earth have been recruiting her, and some heavily, but she is not convinced they are the right place for her to be," Ken answered.

"I have a solution I would ask you to consider," he paused, approaching the topic carefully. "After our conversation at dinner about her desire to study astrophysics, I made an inquiry regarding her academic performance, and found her efforts to be highly commendable."

"Thank you, she has always given her very best efforts," Murron replied. "She is a brilliant child."

"Indeed. Because her academic record is of such high standard, I contacted a colleague at the Vulcan Science Academy. I spoke with him about her situation, and forwarded her dossier to him. After careful evaluation, he has determined that her abilities bore heightened scrutiny. He contacted me yesterday and has confirmed a place for her in the Astrophysics program to begin next year."

Ken and Murron were dumbstruck, and just looked at one another and then back to him.

"I assure you her privacy has not been violated. Only information necessary to evaluate her readiness and potential was revealed to the committee," he said.

"Committee?" Murron asked, her eyebrows rising. "What committee?"

"The special admissions committee is comprised of instructors and administrators at the science academy who evaluate the applications of non-Vulcan students. They recommended she be admitted, with reservation," he replied.

"On what grounds, Sarek?" Ken asked.

"Her inability to communicate in _Vulkahnsu_ is the only deterrent to her attendance. They request that if she will accept her place in next year's class, she begin intensive language study immediately. While Standard is spoken in nearly all classrooms, it is highly advisable that she undertake a study of the language. As her advocate, it will become my responsibility to ensure she does so, should she decide to attend."

"Sarek, this is… quite generous, but also quite impossible," Murron began. "I want the best for her, but we simply cannot afford that. We must consider tuition, a place to live, expenses, not to mention she will be on a planet far, far away from us."

"I have anticipated the variables that would affect the family's decision. I would ask you to allow her to come to San Francisco with us. I will ensure her needs and safety are provided for. This will allow her to begin her language studies in an immersive environment, and start preparatory coursework for the academy.

"Although exact plans are not made yet, Emma and I will return to Vulcan late summer. Her obligations with the FCID will be complete. Jenny is welcome in our home. I ask that you speak with her regarding the possibility, and we will discuss it further during our visit," he finished.

"We will do so, and thank you for the possibility, Sarek. Your generosity is most appreciated," Ken answered for them.

"Until tomorrow, Sarek," Murron said gently. "Please give Emma our best wishes."

He returned to the living room to find her sound asleep. He knelt down by the sofa to untangle her nightgown from the cushions. As he did so, he rested his hand gently on her abdomen, and a tiny presence brushed his consciousness for a moment, sensations and concepts moving by very slowly, one at a time.

…_warm__th…secure…move…_

When she opened her eyes, she found him kneeling next to her, his hand over their baby, and his gaze fixed intently at it. Both eyebrows disappeared slowly into his hair, and she thought she saw a smile forming.

"Find something?" she asked in quiet amusement.

His gaze never leaving her stomach, he nodded and whispered. "Emma, do you sense it?"

"Sense what?"

He reached his left hand out toward her face and brought their minds together, his eyes set on where the baby lay safely inside her body.

_/_Emma – listen carefully…do you hear it?_/ _

She focused her mind and waited, and then it happened…the most basic concepts and actions reverberated across the meld.

…_motion…hear…sounds…stretch…listen…curious…_

_/_Sarek, is that…?_/ _she asked, realizing the beauty of the interaction.

/Yes, it is./

Sarek projected a sense of paternal protection across the meld, gently soothing the listening mind of the infant. It was not concrete, only a primal feeling.

…_Deep Sound…safe…secure…_

_/_Emma, I believe the baby identified and understood me. You must try_./_

…_flex body…listen…curious…_

She projected pure, maternal affection, enveloping the essence of the child.

…_Soft Sound…wanted…sleep…_

Sarek gently removed his hands from her and sat back on the floor, decidedly pleased with what had taken place. It was the first true smile she had ever seen on his face. She sat up and reached her hand to his.

"That just happened, didn't it?" she asked.

"_Ha, K'diwa_, it did."

"_T'hy'la_?" she asked softly, as his demeanor resumed its normal absence of emotional expression.

He looked into her green eyes and waited.

"I know we decided to not learn the baby's gender, but I think I would like to know. After that, I can't not know…and please forgive the double negative," she smiled.

"I share the same desire. We shall inquire in the morning."

Friday, 20 December 2295, 0530 hours

Emma yawned, eyes still shut, and snuggled down deep in their bedding. She was warm and did not want to wake up. Moments later, the door chime rang. She tried to ignore it and go back to sleep, but knew Sorel would be coming in any minute to do their usual morning scans and checks. She heard them talking softly, and had nearly convinced herself to rise when Sarek entered the room and approached her.

"Good morning, Sarek," she smiled at him, reaching her fingers to his.

"Good morning, _aduna_. Sorel is prepared to perform the imaging scan at the medical center. We will depart when you are ready."

After a short breakfast they walked to the medical unit. They all watched the screen carefully as the odd image of the fetus began to form. Not only would they know the sex of their child, they would have a clear look at fetal development.

Each scanning sequence created a new layer of the image, and as Sorel began to manipulate it, it came clearly into focus.

/Look what we did, Sarek!/ she thought with unrestrained joy.

/Indeed, _K'diwa_./

Sorel continued working, refining the images of the tiny creature growing inside her womb. Moving the focus up to the infant's face, details came into sharp focus: a very familiar nose…slanted eyebrows…ears with delicately pointed tips. The tiny infant moved frequently through the procedure.

/That is your nose, Sarek, I recognize it…/

/Agreed. I believe you would find it difficult to explain were it not readily identifiable./

She looked at her husband and smiled. /Well it's a good thing for you I am quite certain then./

Sorel completed the scans and began compiling data. After a few moments, he turned to them and waited for their attention to finally leave the monitor.

"The fetus has a much higher level of activity _in utero_ than expected; however, in a Vulcan fetus this is a very high indicator of exceptional athletic capabilities, accurate to within 99.76%. The scan reveals normal development at the end of nineteen weeks: four point five inches in length, three ounces in weight, and the gender is male," Sorel said.

She touched the image on the screen gently and smiled, "_Sa-fu t'nash-veh_."

"Emma, may I ask what this month's name will be?" Sorel requested, in what could _almost_ be misinterpreted as a teasing manner.

"My curiosity has also been aroused," Sarek added.

"There won't be any more… at least not silly ones," she replied, looking at the face of her son on the monitor.

As his aides were making final preparations for their departure to Skye, Sarek suggested a walk in the embassy gardens. As they trailed their way through the lush green flora, they found a bench by the fountain and sat together, fingers paired.

"No more 'silly' names?" he asked.

"Nay, not after the past sixteen hours," she answered quietly. "Actually, I would like to talk with you about his name…_his."_ She chuckled.

"As you wish."

"I know of the Vulcan custom of selecting a name for a male that begins with the letter 's', and personally, I would like to adhere to that tradition."

"I find myself considering something Sorel said at the end of the appointment this morning, regarding the activity level of the child," he said.

"What is that, Sarek?"

"I experienced two unusual dreams in the first days of our bonding, Emma. They were both regarding children, one specifically about a boy. He was unusually active, so much so that we placed him in aggressive physical training at the age of three to encourage the development of his ability to control his physical behavior."

She looked at him and spoke. "Why didn't you tell me of this previously?"

"There was no logical reason to do so. It was only a dream, a manifestation of my unconscious mind."

"I was thinking," she paused, "I have a feeling that Daddy is not going to live to meet his grandson. I would like very much to introduce them while he is still lucid. Mum has kept me updated on his condition, and he is deteriorating quickly."

"Yes, he is. Murron spoke to me about it last night. Emma, you must prepare yourself for what awaits you today." He turned and looked at her directly. "Know with all certainty that I am with thee in this. You will not endure this alone, my wife."

All weather reports indicated normal winter weather in the Hebrides, and Emma knew that meant one all-important thing: snow!

As beautiful as the land was in summer, with the tall green grass trailing through valleys accented with the lavender of thistle and heather or the grand pine forests skirting ancient mountains, nothing could subdue her love for winter, with its profound cold driven by intense gales, and spontaneous blizzards erupting under only the most specific conditions.

Of all these things, and the comfort she found in the familiarity of them, the most soothing was the sound of snowfall in early morning hours.

As a child, she would lie silently in her room at night and long after her parents had fallen into deep sleep, she left the warmth and security of her bed to open her window, steeling herself against the biting cold as it stung her skin. The moonlight was always brighter cast against a blanket of new-fallen snow, giving an eerie pale-blue reflection to the environment.

She made herself endure it as long as possible, realizing that it brought her mind to a heightened awareness of all things around her: the owl roosting in the tree only feet from her room, the rabbit moving silently across the yard, red deer passing by a dormant garden…the echoes of her ancestors in the homeland set aside and preserved for her to experience, and call her own.

All was silent in these times; everyone around her was sleeping, missing the beauty she treasured, but that was ok with her. It remained hers alone, something to be jealously guarded and possessed in her mind.

Sarek sat quietly next to her in the shuttlecraft, listening to the memories she was openly broadcasting in her mind. He found himself highly curious when she would fall into memory as such; she was invariably unaware that the memories were communicated to him across the bond, and he found it to be an illuminating way to learn more about her.

The vivid imagery was always fresh and hyper-detailed, holding profound significance within her soul. He understood that, too. How many evenings had he sat upon his balcony at the embassy and thought of the Sas-a-Shar desert, remembering the welcomed comfort of home?

Gently, he touched his fingers to hers as Soran piloted across Greenland, preparing to alter their flight plans in order to avoid a rather troublesome storm brewing over Ireland.

/_Tahluk nash-veh, t'hy'la_./

/And I you, my love./

Exchanging a long glance, they both the focused upon Sorel, engrossed in a PADD Emma had given him regarding the cultural history of the Hebrides. For all the work he'd performed on behalf of her and the baby she carried, she felt the very least she could do was help him to see a few of the beautiful places her world had to offer.

As much as she was grateful he had agreed to the posting with her at the embassy, she still felt a strong pang of guilt for his extended absence from his bond-mate. Sarek sensed her concerns, and projected peace across their bond.

/Sarek, he won't be offended, will he?/

/I should think not. He is devoted to his duties as healer, and the circumstances warrant his attending you presently. I am certain he will be most grateful of the arrangements you have made, _aduna_. You have performed a most gracious service for him./

She smiled as she thought about the conversation she had with Sorel in preparation for his first visit to a climate with such aggressive cold…

"Ohakausu_, may I speak with you please?"_

"_Yes. Are you feeling well this afternoon?"_

"_Yes, thank you, much better in fact. I realize that you are an accomplished traveler, and quite capable of preparing yourself for the trip to Scotland, but I wanted to ensure that you had enough information about the climate," she began._

"_Elaborate."_

"_We are going to be there at the beginning of winter. It's going to be very cold. In recent years, the temperatures have been as low as minus ten degrees Celsius, and the wind can gust in excess of thirty miles per hour. It's not uncommon for heavy mist to settle in on the landscape, and in certain conditions, blizzards can land fast and hard. But that is not the issue that concerns me for you and Sarek, though."_

"_And that is?" he asked._

"_It's the ambient humidity. Snow itself can have a wide variety of textures, one of which has a very high 'wetness' to it. Our snow is very wet, and I am concerned that it can be chilling to your bodies very quickly – much faster than to us."_

"_Recommendations?"_

"_Heavy boots, thicker tunics, and your heaviest robes, to start. One thing my country is known for is cold weather clothing. One product we export a great deal of is Angora. It is the hair of rabbits woven into scarves, gloves, sweaters, hats... things of that nature. We will provide those for you. It would not be unusual at all to sleep in socks, too._

"_Also, bear in mind that my family's home is very old, and has been renovated each generation to accommodate energy demands and the like, but that does not change the fact that it is an old house. As such, you will please inform us if the ambient environment is unacceptable, ok?"_

"_Understood, and thank you for your counsel, _Osavensu_."_

Soran's voice drew her mind back to the present. She eagerly made her way to a viewing portal to take in her homeland once more.

"We are entering the approach line. We will land in Kyleakin fourteen point six one seconds ahead of scheduled arrival."

Sorel looked up to see an impressive scene before him: the Duirinis Peninsula, accompanied by the Cuillin mountain range, its black-brown soil and rock covered in a thick layer of pure white. It reminded him of Mount Seleya, with their mass formed by the violence of ancient volcanoes.

Ken McLeod stood in the cold, bundled tightly in his plaid watching the shuttlecraft land. He looked at his chronometer, and noted they were early. Deciding he could not damn them for their punctuality, he walked toward the landing zone.

Sarek stepped out of the craft first, surveying the immediate vicinity very carefully, and then nodding to Emma to disembark. Sorel followed behind and Soran finally exited setting the luggage on the ground.

"Sarek, welcome back home. It's good to see you again, sir."

"Ken, peace and long life to you," Sarek replied.

"Emma darling, welcome home," he said, observing her robes. "Those are lovely. You have been missed, lass."

"Uncle, please allow me to introduce you to our guest, Healer Sorel. _Ohakausu_, this is my uncle, Dr. Kenneth McLeod."

"Dr. McLeod, I am honored. I thank you for your hospitality, and I request you address me as Sorel," he said quietly.

"Welcome to Skye. Please call me Ken. Well, it's going to get colder this evening. There is a storm coming across from Ireland tonight, so we ought to head home now."

Stepping out of the flitter, Emma stopped to look at the house again. No matter how often she went away, it always welcomed her back. Approaching the door, she could smell supper cooking.

Walking into the living room, she stopped to observe her father asleep in his favorite recliner by the fireplace. He was wrapped in a large duvet, snoring softly. She walked over and knelt beside him, gently holding his hand and smiling as he awoke.

"Emma! You're a sight for sore eyes, girl. How long have ya been here?" he asked softly

"We only just arrived."

Sarek and Sorel entered the house, pausing to observe her interactions with her father. Sorel whispered to Sarek in their native tongue.

"Sarek, he is _not_ well."

"No, he is not; he has declined greatly since August."

The McLeod women came in from the kitchen, greetings were exchanged, and introductions made. Sorel stood quietly in the doorway from the kitchen looking in upon the family together in the living room.

He thought of T'Kar, and wished she were there with him. It was unsatisfying that they could not be together, but his responsibilities to Emma would take precedence in the interim. For all the noise in the house, he did not hear the figure walk up behind him.

/_Adun_, will you not greet your wife?/ she asked, her blue eyes revealing what she would not express aloud.

He turned and looked at her, pairing their fingers together and relishing in the physical resurgence of their bond with one another.

/T'Kar! How is it possible that you are here? Why did you not tell me of your arrival?/

/It was intended to be a surprise. Emma made it possible for me to journey to Earth and share this time with you. She feels a burden of what I have determined to be guilt for our parting…/

/…but we are never parted, _K'diwa_. I am most pleased to see you again./

After dinner, everyone sat together in the living room around a roaring fire. After a long discussion about the presentation on Nisus, conversation turned from one subject to another, and then fell upon the controversy of the Verellian Treaty.

"Sarek, can you tell us what happened that made Fol'vin agree to the cease-fire? I know you have worked intensively with both him and Veled for several years now, and many tried before you. What happened on Monday anyway?" Ken asked.

"Monday's ceremony was halted by Fol'vin's inability to censure his own personal opinions regarding Veled's legitimate conception and birth."

"Are you telling us that he called him a bastard at the table to sign a peace accord?" Will asked incredulously.

"Correct, and he questioned that of Veled's mother as well. Parental integrity is a vital social component on Verellian III, especially regarding the mother. Veled tried to ignore the taunting, but it was continuous, and he felt it necessary to depart the negotiations lest he himself contribute to the inappropriateness of the situation."

Anna spoke. "How sad that neither of them could sit together for even a few minutes and play nice, even at the cost of the thousands who have died in the hostilities of these decades of war. You would think personal opinions could be set aside for the betterment of their people," she said, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Tell them of your meeting with Fol'vin on Thursay afternoon, _adun_," Emma encouraged.

"As Emma and I shared mid-meal yesterday, she suggested he had forgotten his place and purpose in the process. He agreed to meet with me in a private session, and I chose a rather unorthodox approach. Wednesday evening several squadrons of Fol'vin's military conducted what he termed a 'reconnaissance mission'. It was a raid, and one of the places they attacked was a school.

"The people of Verellian III board their children in school units within their communities and the whole social group teaches them. The soldiers demolished the building the children lived in, herded them into the playground, and slaughtered them. They were as young as six years of age." He paused, maintaining his composure carefully.

"Do I even want to know how many, Sarek?" Murron asked.

"One hundred seven," he replied frankly, as a disturbed silence fell over the room.

Ken placed his arm around Murron's shoulder gently as she wiped her eyes.

"Forgive me," she said, "but that is more than I can handle; they are – were – children. Honestly, what kind of person murders another, especially a child?" she asked.

"A person in possession of an unstable mind, _T'sai_," Sorel answered.

Sarek and T'Kar looked at him pointedly for a moment. The Humans had no way of knowing the suffering Sorel had endured as his first bond-mate T'zan's presence had been so callously stolen from him.

Sarek continued. "I chose to secure intelligence holopics of the raid and present them to Fol'vin in the meeting. The images of the children were the last in the series, and I then asked if he had any children of his own. I learned that they are all off world because he deemed it safer for them.

"What I found most disconcerting was that he was unaware of the raid. They have committed acts of espionage against one another for the duration of the conflict, but he did not authorize the raids."

"Wait, how could he not have known? He is the high commander," Anna said skeptically.

"Actually Anna, I will say one thing in Fol'vins defense here: he may be a bigot, but he is not a liar," Ken answered politely.

"Well, what happened, Sarek?" Anna asked, curiosity eating away at her.

"I learned that he has a fourteen-year-old daughter, and we talked of her for a moment. I then asked him to consider why he would be willing to commit another generation of innocent people to such a life, and I left the meeting to meditate. I only know that he made three calls from the embassy com-unit: one to his military commanders, one to his daughter, and one to Veled. He then informed us of his intention to sign the accord without further delay."

"Well, Sarek, we are very proud of your work. You have performed a tremendous service to their people," Will said.

Late evening saw the temperatures drop quickly, and the rain became snow. Emma worked quietly in the kitchen to finish cleaning from dinner and was singing softly to herself. She did not hear Sorel enter the room, and she startled abruptly when a rather large hand reached beside her for a dishtowel to help dry the remaining cookware.

"I don't know what it is about you men, but you all walk so quietly! Sarek does it, too," she chuckled as her heart rate returned to normal.

"Forgive me. I did not intend to frighten you, only to assist," he paused, "and to thank you."

They studied one another for a moment.

"It's not necessary, Sorel," she said gently as she handed him a casserole dish. "Look, all I know is that neither Sarek nor I expected this so quickly. But for you to be away from your wife and family so long, let alone your practice… I am relieved that it was not an invasion of your privacy," she said, smiling at him.

"Indeed, you are most kind."

"I come to serve as well." She smiled at him as he handed her the last plate. "Thank you for your help."

After a cup of tea, Emma made her way up the stairs to her room. Stepping into darkness, she closed the door quietly and listened for a moment, hearing nothing more than Sarek's breathing. She made her way to their bed and undressed, sliding in behind him gently and spooned with him, draping her right arm around his waist. His hand settled over hers.

"Your thoughtfulness made quite an impression upon him," he said quietly after a moment's silence. "He will always perform his duties well, but this assignment has been a challenging one for him. It was most gratifying to see them together this evening."

"Yes, it was; they are a lovely couple," she said, kissing the tip of his ear tenderly.

He turned to face her, his hand tracing her jaw line. His fingers lingered along her psi points, and he allowed himself a moment to stay there, the connection surging momentarily.

She could feel his desire for her building. "_Tahluk nash-veh,_ Sarek,_ k'diwa t'nash-veh_," she said quietly, kissing the tip of his nose, her hand finding his. She matched their first and second fingers together, and began to caress his with hers.

He closed his eyes as she gently traced her fingertips along his, a wave of pleasure slowly moving through his body. As she began again his breathing deepened, and his pulse rose. Moments later, his hands roamed freely across her body, touching here, tickling gently there...his knee nudged gently between hers…lips met…teeth nipped… possession…_katras_ entwined…

Afterward they lay in silence, her body above his. She looked at him, his face illuminated by the light of the full moon, even brighter for the blanket of white that now lay outside.

When she shivered in the coolness of the room, he brought her down close to him and covered them both securely in the down-filled duvet.

Once settled in his arms, she asked an interesting question. "Sarek, I was thinking about names today after you told me of your dream, and I remembered a name that describes that boy well. It's a Gaelic name for a male…s-c-e-o-l-a-n, pronounced 'skey-lahn'. It means 'fleet of foot'. Is there a word in _Vulkahnsu_ that phonetically sounds like that or means something? I ask because it starts with an 's', and it would seem to be a fitting title for a little boy who cannot be still. But I would not want to consider it were there to be a derogatory connotation or idiomatic reference associated with it."

For a moment, he wondered if she was teasing him, but then realized she would not know of what she was referencing. It was an obscure detail from Surak's day that was not in the historical reference texts available to the Federation, simply because it was minutia.

"Emma, I know of no negative connotations; however, I must ask you how much pre- and mid-reform Vulcan history you have studied?"

"Not much, honestly. At least not beyond what was necessary for my doctoral studies. Why?"

"Do you know of the _skladasular-sahran_?" he asked.

"No, what is that?"

"Not 'what', rather 'who'. As Surak's philosophy was becoming more widespread prior to his death, he would travel to communities to discuss his ideas. Along with the interest from others who sought peace, he garnered the attention of those who did not agree, and they would often attempt to interfere with the distribution of his ideas to larger populations.

"To combat this interference, messengers were sent out ahead to the villages and communities he was visiting. For safety, they were always male, and all had a propensity for extraordinary athletic abilities, being able to endure harsh desert exposure, and run for hours without tiring. Much like the runners in Marathon of ancient Greece, they would travel great distances to convey highly valuable and sensitive information.

"These young men were known as _skladasular-sahran_, and after generations, their name had been abbreviated as many other phrases were, resulting in the modern name of _sk'l'an_, spelled s-k-l-a-n."

A long silence hung between them.

"Hmm, I was unaware of that," she answered. "Interesting correlation, don't you think?"

"Yes, quite. Emma, I find the name to most appropriate," he said. "I suggest insertion of the letter 'e' between the 'k' and 'l'…s-k-e-l-a-n."

"Then his name will be Skelan."

Early in the morning hours Sarek rolled over feeling chilled and awoke when he could not find her to share warmth. Feeling the wind blow through the room, he realized the window was open, and he saw her silhouetted against the moon.

Rising quietly, he approached her from behind, wrapping his arms around her gently, their naked bodies shivering in the cold. He found to be quite uncomfortable, but a fascinating experience.

"Is this as it was in your childhood?"

"How did you know about that?"

"On occasion your shielding will slip when you are considering a memory. It comes to me across our bond, I respect your privacy and ignore it, but when this one came yesterday, I found it to be intriguing. I ask your forgiveness," he said quietly.

"There is no offense. In fact, I should be the one asking for it after projecting random thoughts like that," she answered sweetly, holding his arms tightly.

"What are you observing right now?" he asked.

/What do you hear, Sarek?/

/Footsteps…I estimate them to be fourteen meters southeast./

They observed a small herd of deer passing through the yard followed a brilliant flash of light far above them as the aurora borealis flared into view over head.

Sorel's eyes opened to see her sleeping form next to his, and he thought himself pleased to have her there with him. He had missed her, and much preferred to be together with her.

/I agree… _ha'tha ti'lu_,/ she thought, opening her eyes and turning toward him.

As they enjoyed peaceful, time together, they listened as life returned to the McLeod kitchen; laughter, conversation in a language they could not understand, the sounds of Human family life.

Emma and her mother were beginning to prepare breakfast together, chatting away in Gaelic. Once the coffee was brewing and bread dough rising, Emma started to clean and cut fruit and tomatoes, and inadvertently dropped a large bowl on the floor.

"Emma, do you think you can be any louder? Bang the pans together, maybe you will wake the dead, child!" Anna laughed out loud.

"I could if I tried, believe me. Oh, there is my husband," she answered returning to Standard as Sarek entered the room.

"Would you like tea this morning?" Anna asked.

"Yes, thank you," he answered, PADD in hand. "Emma, I will speak with you."

She followed him into the living room, a smile on her face. He turned to her and spoke softly. "I have the medical scans from yesterday morning stored on this device. I prefer to speak with your mother and father about this in the privacy of immediate family first."

"As you wish. I…" She was interrupted by her father coming down the stairs.

"Prefer to speak with immediate family about what?" Will asked as he reached the bottom of the stairs and hugged her.

"No time like the present, I suppose," she said, taking her father by the arm and looking at Sarek directly.

"For what?" Anna asked, looking concerned as she came out of the kitchen. "What? Bread is baking, what is it?"

The four of them sat together in the living room and she handed her father the PADD. She watched silently as he accessed the file and began to observe the scan. They were completely fixed upon the forming image. Anna covered her mouth as the baby's face came into focus, its nose twitching slightly, eyebrows rising and falling gently.

"I know that nose, and it does not belong to my daughter," she said looking directly at Sarek, with that smile.

Will sat quietly. He opened his mouth to say something, and then hesitated a moment. "What is it?" he asked in a whisper.

"_Osa-mekh_, that is your grandson," Sarek answered respectfully.

"My grandson," he began. "He is beautiful! Look at that strong face, and those ears! Those aren't my daughter's either," he said with a laugh.

"He is a busy little thing, isn't he?" Anna asked watching the baby move almost constantly.

"Well, that is the other thing we wanted to tell you…his name," Emma said. "I remembered the Gaelic 'Sceolan'…" she paused as they both nodded.

"Fleet of foot, yes," Will interjected.

"Well, we were discussing that and then Sarek told me of something in Vulcan's history. Tell them," she encouraged.

"During Surak's attempt to bring reason to the people, messengers would be dispatched to villages and communities that he intended to visit. These young men were known for exemplary athletic ability, often running for ten to twelve hours at a time. They were called _skladasular-sahran_, or 'fast messengers'.

"One issue that has been discovered with our child is he exhibits prenatal behaviors that are accepted as profound indicators of athletically inclined Vulcan children, specifically, the excessive body movements_ in utero_. It is possible this will not apply to him, but the likelihood has been calculated at a 99.76% probability.

"The modern term for these men was shortened over time to _sk'l'an_. It shares essentially the same pronunciation in your language as it does mine, and to ease in its interpretation, we have agreed upon 'Skelan'."

"Skelan…Skelan," Will said, turning the name across his tongue. "It is quite fitting."

"Indeed it is. Thank you for this precious gift," Anna said, wiping the tears from her own eyes. "What an unexpected blessing."

Sorel and T'Kar stood quietly at the top of the stairs, not wishing to interrupt this moment for Sarek and Emma's family. They joined them in the living room as Will and Anna began to review the scan again, asking questions, pointing out resemblances, and celebrate the gift of another child offered to Clan McLeod. After all, it was simply a matter of perspective.

Sorel observed the family's interactions with one another, recognizing the immutable truth of infinite diversity in infinite combinations. He began to consider his future on Nisus, his life with T'Kar – Daniel and T'Mir. He thought of his own son, Soton, and began to seriously consider the value of being so far away from that which was of such great value: his own grandchildren.


	7. Its Cyclical, Really

NEW : Life After Death Chapter 7

By: T'Ashalik

Sarek/f

Saturday, 21 December 2295

Emma stood by the door waiting patiently as the women were preparing to leave. A trip to the markets was needed to prepare for the family's traditional holiday gathering. They had learned that even Daniel had managed to acquire shore leave and would be with them as well; for once in a long time, the family would be whole again.

T'Kar approached Emma with curiosity as she chuckled to herself. Anna and Murron could be heard negotiating the grocery list while Jenny kept encouraging them to talk about it in the flitter so as not to be any later than they already were.

"Something amuses you, Emma?" T'Kar asked.

"Definitely. We always do this. It can't just be that we get in the flitter and go," she said quietly. "I love my family."

"It is the eccentricities of families that make them a treasure. Thank you for sharing yours with us."

Emma nodded. "It is our honor to have you with us."

"I have lived on Nisus for many years, raised my daughter there, but even in the midst of the unique diversity offered in that environment, I am continually intrigued by the very existence of Humans. It is complex, complicated, and often seemingly irrational, but as I continue to learn about your people, I find you to be a most agreeable and adaptable species," she said.

The McLeod maelstrom had moved from the kitchen and was winding through the living room as the men just watched it go by. As goodbyes were exchanged, Emma looked at Sarek.

/See what you married into?/

/I cherish thee, _aduna_, and all that comes with you./

The men watched the flitter rise and depart, Emma having commandeered the driver's seat whilst the market negotiations continued.

"I have said it before, and I will say it again," Will said softly. "I love those women."

"Gentlemen, _that_ is known as a fabulous disaster. May they return to us safely," Ken said with a smile.

"Agreed," Sorel answered.

An unusual quiet hung in the living room as Ken surveyed Sarek.

"Sarek, may I ask a question?"

"Yes."

"How long did you and Emma know there was a wee one coming?"

"We were suspicious of the circumstances in early October, and it was confirmed during her visit to Nisus," Sarek replied.

"May I ask why you waited so long to tell us?" Ken continued.

"It was a mutual decision, Ken. The very early stages of embryonic development of a Human-Vulcan hybrid are precarious under the best of circumstances. Very careful medical adjustments must be made to ensure that the organs develop appropriately, for if they do not, the fetus will terminate after the fourth week.

"Given several factors, including the loss of her first child, the uncertainty of those first weeks, and Will's own illness, we determined it would be more appropriate to wait until the conclusion of the fifth month. There is still the possibility of miscarriage, but it lessens with each week," Sarek replied.

"I see," Ken replied. "Well, it is a wonderful thing to know there will be a baby in this family again. It's been a long time since we've had a little one in the house. I am looking forward to meeting him. Will told me about how you two arrived at his name, Skelan. I think that is a fascinating correlation."

"Yes, it is." Sarek paused as Will began to cough aggressively, and then finally quieted. "Will, are you experiencing discomfort?"

Will's face had reddened and he was massaging his temples. "I am fine, it's nothing," he replied, trying to wave off their concern.

Sorel opened his medical kit and approached him, running a scan. As he did so, he observed Will's eyes, and noticed that his left pupil was not adjusting to the amount of light in the room; it was set in one position. He looked at him for a moment.

"Will, how long have you been experiencing loss of vision in your left eye?" Sorel asked pointedly.

"It started this morning, actually."

"Little brother, why did you not say something?" Ken asked, rather abruptly.

"I didn't wish to cause a stir. Anna's already worried enough, and Emma does not need the stress," Will replied.

"Damn your pride, Will," Ken said angrily. "How can you do that to them? Anna will be with ye to the end of this, and you know it. Emma is a grown woman, and strong one at that, greatly in part due to you. How can you refuse help from those who care for you?"

Sarek and Sorel listened to the heated conversation with great curiosity.

"Will, you know the responsibilities I will bear at your death. The least you can do is allow us the privilege of caring for you while you're still with us. You make it really tough to keep promises when you won't allow me even that." Ken stood and walked out of the room through the kitchen, slamming the back door as he left.

Hearing the kicking of a large metal pail, and the utterances of what they assumed were expletives in Gaelic outside, the Vulcans looked at each other or a moment. Clearly there was more going on than they were aware of.

Sarek rose. "I will speak with Ken."

Sorel nodded and continued to evaluate Will's medical needs.

Sarek walked outside and found Ken sitting in the garden under the tremendous, old oak tree, its leaves shed for winter. He observed the Scot weeping, his shoulders trembling as he sobbed. Sarek approached him gently.

"May I join you?"

Ken nodded and scooted down the bench, making a futile attempt to regain his composure. "I am sorry for that back in there," he said, "I should have spoken to him privately and not embarrassed him or the two of you with that."

"Speak your mind, Ken."

"He is my baby brother. It's not supposed to be this way. It never was, but after Daddy died everything changed."

"Explain."

"Sarek, when we were sixteen and fourteen years old respectively, our father was killed in a fishing accident; and being the oldest, it fell upon me to provide for my family. I did it, and at great personal expense, but I did it gladly, as it was my duty. I made sure that my mother and brother had plenty to eat; that we had what we needed to survive; that he could marry Anna; and I even chose to forgo my birthright to our ancestral home so they would have a place to raise their family. Then mum died a few years later, and it fell on me again."

"What fell upon you?"

"The responsibilities of ceremony and centering the family afterward, and while it may not seem like much, it's a tremendous duty. I understood that it was my obligation with our parents. They created us, she bore us, and they both raised us well. It's only right to honor them by doing so, but I never thought I would be burying my little brother.

"He is my best friend, I have known him all his life, and he is so stubborn. When he does not want to do something, he won't do it, and he is almost making this harder for me than I can take. I cannot imagine what he is going through, but when he won't let me help him, he makes me so damned angry sometimes."

Sarek said nothing, but reflected upon memories of his own brother Silek, and the truth of Ken's words.

He paused a moment and took a deep breath, wiped his face and then looked Sarek in the eyes. "I apologize for losing my temper in there. I will speak with Sorel momentarily as well. You didn't need to see that."

"Surak was most wise. He possessed a profound understanding of his fellows – that sometimes emotion will boil forth, and there are justifiable reasons for this happening. He openly acknowledged this with them, and helped them to understand that it was normal. Were he here with us now, I believe his response to you would be 'the cause is sufficient', and 'there is no offense where none is taken'."

Ken nodded silently.

"I must ask what I can do to assist you. It is both illogical and unnecessary to endure these experiences alone."

He looked at Sarek for a long moment and finally spoke. "You don't mind?"

"No, I do not. It is my honor to serve this family. You have grafted me in, accepting my differences because of what they are, not in spite of them. I will do all that I can to assist you."

Sorel continued the medical scan as Will sat in silence. "It is illogical to refuse assistance at this time, Will."

"I don't want to take any more medication. I am tired of it, besides, it's not gonna change the inevitable," he replied.

"No, Will, it will not. However, it will lessen the discomfort you will experience as you approach your death, and that of your family as they support you through it. Suffering discomfort for the sake of pride is irrational. There is no medical reason for you to not have relief in these last days."

"What does the scan show?" Will asked, uncertain he really wanted to hear the answer.

Sorel paused momentarily, seeing the fear in the man's face, and then answered. "Anna gave me your medical chip when I arrived yesterday. I am making a comparison scan between your last visit to your physician two weeks ago and this morning. The tumors have increased in size by eleven percent. The largest of them has put pressure on your optic nerve, resulting in the blindness in your left eye. Additionally, your renal system is functioning in the lower range of efficiency," Sorel answered.

"That doesn't sound good."

"No, it is not. I suggest that you take the remaining time available to you and share your thoughts and feelings with your family. Many people through the galaxy are not afforded such an opportunity, Will," Sorel said quietly as he rose.

"Um, Sorel, may I have something to help with this headache? It's hurtin' fairly bad now."

"Of course," Sorel said, preparing a hypo, "This will not eliminate all discomfort, but it will reduce it substantially. Take this time to rest."

As Sorel administered the medication, relief visibly washed over Will's face, and he sighed momentarily. "Thank you."

"I come to serve, Will. Please excuse me. I require an interval of meditation."

As he walked up the stairs, Sorel thought of what Will's _aduna _would suffer when his death came to him. As he knelt and prepared to begin his meditation, T'Kar resonated clearly in his mind. As profound as his mental disciplines were, she always knew when he was troubled.

/_T'hy'la_, what concerns thee?/

/_Taluhk nash-veh – k'diwa. _I would share this with you once you return, please. I must meditate at this time. Forgive me./

/And I cherish thee, my beloved. There is nothing to forgive_._/

Arriving home, Emma saw Sorel sitting on the front porch. Closer inspection revealed he was in his heaviest robes and looked rather chilled. As she helped her mother and aunt get the groceries from the flitter, he approached T'Kar and paired their fingers together. Trying not to be too obvious and stare, Emma noted the touch lingered for a long moment, and then ceased.

He quietly approached Anna and asked to speak with her. "After you left for the market this morning, Will complained about the severity of the headache he has been experiencing in recent days. Before I administered pain relief, I completed a scan of his brain tissue."

"What were the results?"

"The tumors have grown by eleven percent compared to his most recent doctor's visit. However, there is a new complication you must be aware of: he has lost sight in his left eye. Additionally, his renal system is not performing to normal standards. I am concerned that the amount of time he has is diminishing."

Anna looked into his dark black-brown eyes for a moment and took a deep breath in very slowly before she spoke. "Are you telling me this so I can prepare for it?"

"Yes."

"How long would you estimate he has?" she asked, quietly.

Sarek and Emma stepped out onto the porch when she sensed a wave of anxiety from her mother.

"Providing the rate of tumor growth and decline of his body systems remains constant, which is unlikely, he has between two and four days."

Emma walked up to her mother and put her arm around her shoulder. "And if the growth and decline are faster than projected?"

Sorel looked directly at her. "In that event, he has less than thirty-six hours."

She absorbed his words as a strike to her face, struggling to maintain her composure. Sarek touched his fingers to hers and extended comfort to her.

"Well," Anna said with resolution, "I promised to see him through this. We need to get dinner started, and he's not too far gone to peel potatoes." She walked toward the house determined to keep her promise.

Sarek looked at Emma, surveying her expression to guide his understanding of her thoughts – they were remotely accessible over their bond.

/Emma? I cannot assist you in this if you will not allow me to./

She nodded at him. /I'm gonna call the chief and request a gathering tonight. Daddy would enjoy that./

After an enjoyable supper of hearty vegetable stew, the comm-unit chimed. Will answered to find Leathan waiting for him.

"Good evening, sir."

"Hello, Will. A gathering has been called for tonight at the pub. Will you join us?"

"I would like that."

He returned to the family room to find them all waiting quietly.

"The chief calls for a gathering this night, and I, for one, would very much like to go," he said with the inklings of a smile, the first she had seen in days.

Anna spoke softly as she picked up his plaid and wrapped his shoulders tightly. "Then we shall go, Will."

While the family prepared to leave, Emma briefed Sorel and T'Kar as to exactly what a 'gathering' was. "Essentially, as many as are able will meet at the pub. There will dancing, singing, drinking, and socializing. It's actually quite enjoyable."

"Emma, you will not consume ethanol," Sorel instructed firmly as he donned his outer robe.

"Yes, sir," she replied with a smile.

Arriving at the pub, they found the gathering in full swing; the air filled with laughter, conversation, and music. Emma watched her mother as she straightened Will's plaid and adjusted his collar slightly. He offered Anna his left arm and she accepted his offer as her escort, clandestinely guiding his hand to the doorknob.

Although the appearance of three Vulcans gave the patrons momentary pause, it then vanished as they were welcomed heartily into the gathering and guided to a table set aside for the family. Emma went to the bar and spoke with the barkeep.

"David, how are ya?"

"I am well, Emma. You've brought more of them with ya I see," he answered with a smile. "What can I get ya? Stout or whiskey tonight?"

"No thank you, I am not in the mood for that this evening. Could you boil some tea for me?"

He looked at her suspiciously. "Have you gone soft? I have never known you to turn down a fresh pint. I just tapped the keg this evening."

"Yes, David, I have; now how about that tea? We'll take it at the table with four cups," she said, handing him the packet of _theris-masu_. She turned to look at the clan goings-on, seeing friends and extended relatives moving through the social experiences they would recollect for years to come.

She realized that she and Sarek would soon begin preparations to establish their household on Vulcan, and suddenly the noisy environment she had learned to tune out became a treasure, with its loudly broadcast thoughts, unrealized emotional projections...the people that she called her own. The thought of leaving this behind for a new home brought an intense sadness upon her – a preemptory homesickness.

Sarek had sensed a change in mood from her, and he sought her out. He recognized these feelings, although they had come from Amanda many years past…

_Amanda Grayson - newly _aduna _Sarek, sat in the embassy gardens with a handkerchief as her left thumb rubbed the beautiful golden ring that now adorned her left hand. She carefully wiped her eyes, and just when she thought the worst of it was over, the tears came again. She felt so conflicted – in love with her husband and seriously questioning her judgment at the same time._

_The whole thing started when she began to think about the first Christmas she would spend on Vulcan, and then she realized there would be no Christmas on Vulcan…that led to no one she knew on Vulcan except for Sarek. While she loved him dearly, she was not sure how she felt about all of the people and places familiar to her being stripped away by her own hand. 'What was I thinking?' she wondered._

_Then she thought of the one thing she did have: a very new and interesting marriage to a brilliant and insightful creature. While he did not say 'I love you' directly, everything in his actions said it for him. She relished in the memories of their relationship as it was newly formed, and how challenging some aspects of his mannerisms had been to adjust to, such as his seeming inability to appreciate the value of a well-timed joke. But even in those moments, she had begun to see the very privately guarded side of Sarek's persona, the one not ever shown to others, only to her - to his _aduna.

_He had realized the importance of sharing parts of that persona with her, as it helped her to know he was in fact much more than a 'CPU with feet', as a carelessly-speaking aide had been heard describing him once during a visit at the embassy of Tellar Prime. _

_It showed her that his thought processes and reasoning were well-motivated, with her very best interest in mind; that interest being set in place to ensure that she would receive the nurturing care she needed and he would receive fulfillment of the life-saving promise she had made to him._

_Sarek realized the importance of sharing what she would term 'his humanity', simply because she was his chosen wife, his _k'diwa_. It came to him in his meditations that if she were to adjust to life comfortably in Vulcan, as the wife of a Vulcan, and perhaps the mother of his children, that she must be able to understand all of him. She thrived upon those opportunities to earn his trust with such confidences._

_So, as he approached her in the gardens, he relaxed his tightly maintained controls for a moment of private conversation with her, knowing she would sense his vulnerability and treasure it rather than exploit and humiliate him._

"_Amanda, you are upset. Why?' he asked, sitting next to her, touching his fingers to hers._

"_I didn't mean to interrupt your work, sweetheart. I am sorry," she said quietly as the tears began again._

"_You are never an interruption, _aduna_. You are my wife, and your needs are of great importance to my attention. What concerns thee?" _

_Tears were a confusion to him: both a waste of precious hydration and physical energy; nonetheless, he recognized the significance of her despair as she did not cry often._

_She blinked for a moment, and then began to sob. "I don't know anyone there. What was I thinking? I am absolutely in love with you, and I have just agreed to go to a place where I will be light years away from my family. Was this a mistake? Not us, I mean this decision to go to Vulcan?"_

"K'diwa_, while I cannot speak for your logic in choosing me, I can and will speak for my own in the matter. I chose you, I cherish you, and I am grateful that you will reside with me on my home world. The change will be a great challenge for you in ways you cannot imagine; however, I am confident you will succeed," he said softly._

"_How can you be so sure?" _

"_Because, Amanda, if I thought for one moment that you would fail in anything we will experience together, I would have chosen another. I am satisfied in you, my wife…"_

Sarek found Emma watching her family, friends, and clansmen. He realized as she looked at each of them, she was remembering details of how she knew them, amusing tidbits, moments of pride and character.

/What are you thinking about?/ he asked.

/How much I shall miss this place and these people. Take Hamish – when we were eight years old, he fell out of a tree and broke his leg. He decided to show off how could walk without the crutches the doctor had given him, and promptly fell, breaking his arm in the process./

/That was unwise of him./

/That is Hamish for you, though. Or David, the bartender: he went to school with my father and uncle. He is the reason that Mr. Buchanan gave us the _sgain dubh_. David has no interest in the maintenance of traditions, and that is a shame, too./

/You now each of them intimately./

/Yes, Sarek, I do, and I will miss them terribly. But the issue is not the choice to leave,/ Emma answered.

/What is the issue?/ Sarek asked, curiosity piqued.

/The uncertainty of what is to come in the next months. I know daddy is not well, and frankly I will be surprised if he survives the new year coming. I am so grateful for the opportunity to be here with him tonight. It's the first time he has really been happy since I can remember./

She sighed quietly, and then smiled as David returned from the kitchen with the tea. "Here ya go, Emma. Hello Sarek."

/Let us enjoy this evening with him while that is possible for us all, _aduna_./

It was late when the dishes were finally done, the vegetable peelings placed in the composting pile, and the lights were turned off. Emma walked silently back in from the garden shed and stopped for a moment to consider the evening. Her father had an opportunity to share time with his clansmen, seeing some for the first time in many years. How ironic it was that it would be his last.

She wiped her boots off and set them inside the utility room door, and as she hung the coat upon the hook, she felt an odd sensation sweep her body aggressively - a nausea that she could not place. She braced herself against the doorframe as it grew into profound discomfort, bringing her to her knees.

Sarek sat in their bed reading a PADD on the architectural traditions of the island when the strangest sensation moved through his body. He set the PADD down and checked his body systems in his mind, finding them each in order when it swept over him once again. He sat quietly and waited, nearly blinded by another wave of pain and nausea that swept through his body. Then he heard her.

/Sarek?/

/_Aduna_, are you unwell?/

/Check on daddy, please./

Just as he was reaching out to knock on Sorel and T'Kar's bedroom door, it opened, Sorel emerging with his med-kit in hand.

"Emma's monitor indicates she is in severe distress. Where is she, Sarek?"

"I am right here…but it's not me, it's my father," Emma said as she came up the stairs.

As she reached them in the hallway, Anna came out of her bedroom.

"Sorel, would you please come look in on him? He was talking to me and then just stopped, mid-sentence. I don't know what's happening to him," Anna said with fear in her eyes.

They entered the room to find Will sitting in his chair, barely conscious. Sorel approached him gently and began to run a scan. "Will, how are you feeling at present?"

"I've been better, but my headache is gone," he smiled weakly. "Would you please turn the light on?"

They each looked at him, and then to one another. The lights were on. Sorel waved his hand in front of Will's face only to discern no recognition of movement. Sorel and Sarek helped him to stand and walk to his bed.

Once Will was resting comfortably, Sorel spoke with them. "This scan reveals that your renal system has ceased proper function, and there is no medical intervention available that will reverse this. Other physiological systems will continue for a short while, but they, too, will soon fail."

Sarek left to make a call and as he entered the code, he thought of all that would come to them in the following days. Finally, Ken answered.

"It is time to begin the vigil. I estimate Will's death will occur by morning."

Ken took a deep breath, and nodded solemnly. "We will be there shortly then. Thank you, Sarek," he said.

Anna sat with her husband talking quietly with him, as they remembered times long past. She held his hand with hers, gently running her fingers along his as they continued to talk.

"It was always you, Anna. I don't know what I did to deserve you though."

"But that's just it, Will, you didn't have to do anything. I fell headfirst into love with you because of who you were. All I know is that I am so grateful for the time we were given. All the best moments in my life had you at the heart of them, and I thank you for that…"

_June 2253_

_Sitting in the Federation History class was not sixteen-year-old Anna McIvers' favorite activity. She would much have preferred to be tending her garden, but as her mother would have no less than her very best, Anna continued to listen to the lecture presentation. As if the material was not boring enough to her, there was the complication of that _obnoxious_ McLeod boy sitting behind her._

_"Psst...Anna...hey," he said, trying to get her attention._

_"Shut it, will ya? You'll get us in trouble now," she quietly snapped back at him._

_The instructor cleared his throat in disapproval. "_Miss _McIvers, quiet please."_

_The 'miss' had the kind of emphasis upon it that let everyone know that such disruption was equivalent to treason, and she had just been formally charged with it._

_"Aye sir, excuse me," she said softly, lowering her eyes in embarrassment._

_The trick to messing around in class was to not get caught, and she had just given everyone an object lesson in failure of that objective. A note found itself being pushed over her shoulder, falling into her lap. It was accompanied by a light kicking of her chair from behind. She opened it and clandestinely read the message:_

_'Will you go to the games with me tomorrow night?'_

_Rather than expose herself to the wrath of her instructor again, she scribbled an emphatic reply:_

_'Not even if it were a requirement for my continued existence.'_

_After managing to toss it back at the exact moment the lecturer's back was turned, she smiled with a distinct satisfaction. Maybe now the hooligan would leave her alone. After all, no teenage boy on the planet could handle what was now a sixth brutal rebuff. It was just too big a blow the male ego, especially if that ego belonged Will McLeod._

_Wrong._

_Another note fell over her shoulder:_

_'You can be as mean to me as you want, Anna Catherine, but it won't work.'_

_She scoffed in disgust as he chuckled behind her. He was persistent, and beginning to annoy her. She wrote a rather nasty note to his brother, and once again, sent it sailing through the air, this time past David Buchanan's head, hitting Ken McLeod in the side of the face._

_'You can tell your brother to piss off, Ken. I won't date him. I won't...and leave my sister alone while you're at it...you boys are just disgusting.'_

_Ken smiled when he read it, and nodded graciously to her..._

Emma sat quietly in the flitter as Sarek drove them to the city of Portree to initiate one of many tasks required of the next hours. They came to a stop in front of an ancient home, and as they approached the front door, he joined his fingers with hers. She knocked three times and they waited. A light came on and they heard the sound of footfall padding quietly down the stairs. The door was opened by an older woman who looked confused to see Sarek and surprised to see Emma.

"Come in out of the cold, the both of you," she said.

"Thank you, Mrs. MacGinnis. May I introduce my husband, Sarek," Emma said respectfully.

"Hello Sarek. I am Ailis," she paused. " Emma, it's late. What can I do for you?"

"Yes ma'am, we've come to ask you to make the _leine bhois_ for my father, please."

The 'death shirt' was specifically made near the time of death, and was the final garment that the decedent wore. Emma held the fabric she and her mother had chosen close for a moment, and then offered it to Ailis.

"Emma, I wish it was not necessary to make it, but I will begin immediately. Ieuan and I will deliver it in the morning, dear."

"Thank you. We must go, and again, please forgive the late intrusion," she answered.

"Nay bother, Emma. Sarek, it was a pleasure to meet you."

Will held Anna in his arms and they continued to talk, delving into memories, approaching things left unsaid for many years.

"Ann, thank you for Emma. She is so much like you it's uncanny," he said, falling silent as he thought about his child.

"When I look at her, think about her mannerisms, she is a clone of you in so many ways. Those eyes, especially," Anna replied.

"Would you do one more thing for me, my love?" He asked.

"Anything."

"Is that PADD around here still? I would like to record a message to Skelan. It bothers me that I will never know him."

She looked at him for a short moment and then rose to retrieve the device. After she brought it to him, she left him in privacy to compose a letter to his grandson. Stepping quietly through the hall, she walked down the stairs to find Ken and Sorel sitting in the living room talking quietly next to roaring fire.

Ken paused momentarily and looked at her expectantly. "You ok, Anna?"

"Aye. He asked for a moment to himself to manage correspondence," she replied. "Have Sarek and Emma returned yet?"

"Not yet. Will you come and sit? I will bring you a cup of tea if you like," he offered.

She stood for a moment and looked at Ken, thinking of the sacrifices he'd made for her and Will in the past. "No, thank you, Ken. I feel like a breath of fresh air actually. You gentlemen stay warm, I need a few minutes to myself," she answered as she donned her coat and scarf, and then stepped outside quietly.

T'Kar and Jenny had been talking about the prospect of her attending the Vulcan Science Academy when they were both distracted by the sight of Anna walking through a dormant garden, a fresh layer of snow collecting on the ground as she walked. T'Kar thought of her first bond-mate, and the grief she endured with his death. Excusing herself from the kitchen table, she poured a cup of steaming _theris-masu_ and stepped outside to join Anna.

Hearing footfall crunching softly through the snow behind her, she turned to see T'Kar with one arm outstretched, offering the hot beverage.

"Thank you. I am very sorry that your visit with your husband has turned into a fiasco," Anna said softly.

"While this situation is most unfortunate for you, it is no inconvenience for either of us. Sorel and I are honored to provide any service that you require, particularly at this time."

Emma stood at the bottom of the stairs looking upward toward her parent's bedroom door, and then began to climb. She tapped on the door, and when there was no answer, she opened it finding her father unresponsive. She steadied herself.

/Sarek, it's time./

/Understood, my wife./

As the family gathered with Will, Sorel conducted another medical scan and then shut the device off and put it away quietly. Standing with his _aduna, _they observed the family.

Anna sat on the bed with him, gently holding his hand in hers. Thankful they had taken time to talk, she watched his chest rise and fall slowly, each slightly less than the one before. She thought about the life she had built with him, and was unable to allow herself to consider another without him.

At the foot of the bed, Murron and Jenny each flanked Ken as they stood in observation. He had known Will longer than anyone else in his lifetime, and he considered all of the experiences they shared: hunting, playing soccer, going to college, beginning families of their own, traveling through the galaxy in service to the Federation… Ken knew this change in his life would be great, and gave a prayer of thanks for his wife and children.

Sarek stood quietly behind Emma, listening to her thoughts quietly, and projecting calm and tranquility to her, as the waves of grief were beginning to crash heavily upon her. Outwardly, she showed very little; inwardly, her pain was deeply entrenched. He gently placed his hand upon her shoulder in encouragement.

Nearly undetectable, Will's diminished breathing slowed. As it stopped, his body relaxed, and he was gone. For fifty-eight years he'd walked the Earth, and as is for all living things, his life had finally been required of him.

A long moment passed as no one moved, no words were spoken. Sarek placed his other hand on her shoulder and turned her to face him. He looked searchingly into her eyes. "_Tushah nash-veh, aduna_," he whispered as he embraced her tenderly.

Continuing in Vulcan, he addressed Sorel. "Verify."

Sorel nodded silently and ran one final scan, acknowledging what they'd witnessed. "It is done. The time of death was 0517 hours, the 22nd of December, 2295."

Silently, Jenny opened the bedroom window as was long tradition; their ancestors believed that the spirit of the dead would remain in the home if the window nearest their body was closed. While she was not so sure of that, she honored the tradition anyway.

Murron went to Anna while Ken stepped into the hallway and called the minister of their church. Moments later the church bell began to toll, notifying the community of the death of one of their own.

The women sat on the back porch bundled up in blankets, talking quietly together. Murron began to braid Anna's long, silver and red hair as she sat in silence while waves of grief fell fresh upon her.

_January, 2254_

_She hurriedly put on her dress and combed her hair, having to slow herself as she encountered tangle after tangle._

_"Murron!" she yelled. "Murr! I need help! It's a big one this time."_

_Her big sister stood in the doorway looking at the disaster that was in front of her, and smiled. "Ya know, six months ago, you could not stand him. Is he really worth all this pain and effort, Anna?"_

_"Is Ken?"_

_"Well yeah...it's not even the same. As I recall, you said 'not even if my existence depended on it' or something like that."_

_"I know, but that was then." A disbelieving stare in the mirror bored through the meager defense. She never could outwit Murron in that regard._

_"Gimme that brush before you destroy these locks. You had to get the pretty hair and you don't appreciate it one iota," she exclaimed with false indignation, snatching the brush from Anna's hand and working out the offending knot of hair. Then she set to braiding it, one piece after another, and after only a moment, a three-foot-long braid of intense, red hair lay gently down the slope of her back._

_"So, could I impose upon you to fasten the back of my dress, or shall I grant him the easiest access to my purity in the history of all Scotland?" Anna asked with a sarcastic smile._

_Murron laughed and shook her head as she secured the dress, and then placed her hands on her sister's shoulders. "You look lovely. I only hope that boy appreciates you, Anna. He sure as hell doesn't deserve you..."_

Sarek watched through the kitchen window as the McLeod women comforted one another, taking part in mercy rituals that had surely been performed for generations before them. He turned as Ken approached. "What is required at this time?"

"We'll need to visit the joiner to purchase the casket, go to the pub for provisions, and then we make final preparations for the morrow," Ken replied quietly. "Will you join me or stay here with Emma?"

"It would appear they are caring for one another at this time. Perhaps we shall divide the tasks and return sooner," Sarek suggested.

Ken nodded in agreement and began to pull on his heavy sweater.

_August 2256_

_Uncharacteristically nervous, Will paced around the garden of their family home, shivering in the cool evening. He kept checking plants for pruning, maintenance - and resigned himself to leaving them alone before he pruned them to death._

_"Little brother, did you get it?" Ken asked._

_Will pulled the box out of his pocket and handed it to him. Ken opened it and looked at the beautiful stone on the simple gold band. It was accompanied by two additional rings, one larger, one smaller._

_"Will, how long did it take you to get the money for this? This is expensive!" Ken asked._

_"I started saving for it after she finally went to the games with me."_

_"You know she only went to shut you up, right?"_

_"Aye...but Ken, it's her. I won't have another," Will said softly. "Besides, that would mean she likes to shut me up on a regular basis."_

_Ken looked at him and laughed out loud. He put his arm around his brother's shoulder and they headed to the house together. _

_Will sat in the flitter outside the McIvers' home, waiting quietly for 1900 hours to arrive. As he was poised to knock on the door, it opened with Anna there. After a short conversation with the entire family, he and Anna were left alone in the family room._

_"So, uhm, Anna...I want to talk to you about something," he said quietly._

_"What?"_

_"Well…" He paused for a moment. Where was his resolve?_

_"Will McLeod, what is the matter with you this evening?" she asked, chuckling. "You are not yourself, sir."_

_"No, I'm not. Anna." Again, he paused._

_"Will! Out with it."_

_He held her hands in his. "I love you, you know that, right?"_

_"Aye. As I, you," she said, looking at him, wondering what his problem was._

_"Anna, I want you to… I mean, would you please...no, dammit, Anna, will you marry me?" he blurted out, and not in the elegant way he had rehearsed for months._

_She sat and smiled at him, stifling laughter. It was highly unlike him to not do everything with the utmost confidence. "William Nathaniel, are you asking me to be your wife?"_

_"I believe I said that, Anna," he replied with feigned indignation at her teasing._

_She ran her hand down the length of his beard for a moment, looking into dark green eyes. "Of course I will."_

_Two weeks later Murron, very pregnant with her firstborn son, stood behind her baby sister, placing a delicate wreath in her hair. No braids on this day. Instead, the long hair was left to its natural curls, pinned up and away from her ears, cascading down her back._

_"I _never_ thought I would see this day, Anna."_

_"Me either. I thought he'd never ask," she replied._

_Murron laughed at her. "No, silly girl. I never saw you spending any more time with that wretched boy than absolutely necessary. Now he's won your heart. Ken says he has never seen Will so happy..._

Sarek watched his wife embrace her mother in her arms, as waves of anguish washed over with renewed strength, and then departed their home.

Emma sat holding her mother listening to her grief pour out as too much water into a small vessel. Anna looked at her again, holding her face gently in her hands, tracing the McLeod nose, eyebrows, and chin. "I love you, daughter."

5_ January 2258_

_Will again paced aggressively in his garden, waiting anxiously for any news of Anna and their baby. At twenty, he felt not quite ready for fatherhood, but, as Ken had so graciously pointed out, 'it was time to pay the piper for the entertainment'._

_Although he could have insisted he stay with Anna, the midwife, Adairia had encouraged him to 'please allow the women to care for one another as they had for thousands of years'. He realized it was code for 'go away, you will only be under foot'._

_Ken walked out to the garden with coffee and his twenty-month-old son Daniel. He handed the coffee to Will as the little boy squealed with delight._

_"_Sneachda, _Papa_!"

_"He never gets over the snow, does he?" Will asked, with a chuckle._

_"No. He is so easy to please. How are you doing?"_

_The conversation paused as they heard Anna's cries of pain intensify._

_"I wish they'd let me in there. I don't want her to be alone right now," he replied honestly. "I got her in this position, and I don't like it that she is suffering."_

_"Will, let's be honest here: you both were involved in this, and your wife is not alone. Let's recount who's there: Adairia, Murron, Ailis, Karyn - she_ _is in good hands. Besides, you would only be under foot."_

_"I figured as much," he paused as Daniel sneezed abruptly. "Come here, wee boy."_

_He pulled out his handkerchief and cleaned up the aftermath of the sneeze, and picked him up. Daniel smiled widely and patted Will on the head, and then shivered._

_"We probably ought to go in. If Murron finds out I brought him out in this cold again, I am in trouble for sure."_

_Will stoked the fire and tried to not worry about the sounds coming from upstairs. Anna was hurting, and he knew it. But then he heard another element: the voices of the women with her, encouraging her, helping - soothing:_

_"..._utagaich_, Anna...push..." _

_She strained with effort, and it hurt him. _

_"..._air eile..._again..."_

_"...little sister, you can do this..."_

_She cried out._

_"..._am cruadalach nighean..."

_He agreed with her mother, Karyn: Anna was a brave daughter. Her father Patrick entered the living room, and placed a hand on his shoulder. "She will be all right, Will. But I suppose that doesn't make you feel any better about the situation."_

_He nodded quietly, but paused when he heard Anna's voice as she wept._

_"_Chan eil mi a' smaoinneachadh se comasach-"

_She was quickly interrupted by Adairia. "Yes, Anna, you can do this, and you will. Now breathe, calm yourself, and push. She is nearly here."_

_He heard the bedroom door open, and Ailis MacGinnis called down the stairs, "Will, it's time, come up quickly now, boy."_

_Excusing himself abruptly, he cleared two steps at a time and stood at the door, peering in. He glanced at the women who did not acknowledge his presence, solely focused on their tasks. Then he saw her, exhausted, her body straining. _

_"Anna, twice more and she's here," Adairia said gently to her._

_Murron realized he was there and went to him. "Well, go to her, Will. Don't be afraid, young man."_

_He went to her and placed his hand on her shoulder as she labored, and a moment later, it was done. A tiny voice cried in angry protest as she was cleaned and inspected, but when she was handed to Anna, it happened...something that would be spoken of in village lore for years to come: the tiny girl stopped crying, looked into her mother's eyes, and openly smiled. _

_Murron took a photograph of Anna holding Emma Catherine._

Arriving in Kyleakin, Ken parked the flitter and handed him several papers that required attention. As Sarek walked through the silent streets, he observed the people standing to the side for him to pass, nodding to him silently in respect.

Arriving at the pub, he found it to be only one of a few businesses open. He entered to find a busy crowd eating breakfast and as they became aware of his presence, the room fell silent. The barkeep approached him.

"Good morning, Sarek. How may I help you?"

"I will acquire this list of provisions for the family," Sarek said, handing him the list.

David nodded and left to gather the items.

At that moment, a young girl approached him. "Excuse me."

"Yes?" Sarek answered quietly.

"My father said Dr. McLeod died this morning."

"Yes, he did."

"I am very sorry for that. He was my favorite teacher," she whispered.

"That is most kind," Sarek replied gently as David returned.

"Moira, let the ambassador be. He does not need to be concerned with you at this time, girl."

"Aye, sir," she answered, watching Sarek carefully as David invited him to sit as the list was being filled.

"I still have some of that tea Emma brought last night. Would you care for some?" David asked, as people returned to their meals, albeit hushed in a vain attempt to eavesdrop on the conversation taking place.

"Yes, thank you."

"Moira, tea please. It's that Vulcan blend," he instructed.

She nodded silently and disappeared.

"Please excuse my daughter," he began, "I am afraid she is just too curious for her own good," he said with a smile.

"Curiosity is not an offense to my people, David."

"You are quite popular around here, ya know," David said.

"I do not understand."

"She is nine. The children all learn about first contact at that age, and she has endless questions about your culture. They know that you are Emma's husband. Our community loves Emma dearly, and what comes with her is important to us. You're a part of this community now, one of us," he replied.

Sorel sat quietly in the living room by the fireplace as he continued to learn about the culture of the remote island population. As he completed a section of the historical texts Ken had loaned to him, a knock rapped on the front door. Answering it, he found an elderly couple. She looked at him for a long moment and then to her husband.

"You are not Emma's husband…" Ailis said suspiciously.

"No, _T'Sai_, I am not. My name is Sorel. Please come in."

"My name is Ieuan MacGinnis, and this is my wife, Ailis," the older man said. "We have brought the garments that Emma requested."

As they spoke quietly, Murron greeted them "Good morning, Ieuan, Ailis. You will have tea?" she asked, taking their coats.

Ailis nodded, handing her the package as Ieuan placed a basket of dense, brown blocks by the hearth. He noticed Sorel observing this carefully, and explained. "It is customary to bring peat to the family to aid in heating and cooking. I expect a large amount will arrive in the coming days."

Murron looked at the box in her hands, knowing what was inside.

Emma and Anna joined her as Anna opened it, revealing the sage chambray burial clothing Ailis spent the early morning hours hand-sewing for Will. "As always, Ailis, an excellent job. He would thank you himself if he were able. It's beautiful," Anna said.

"Well," Ailis said with a saddened air of life experience, "let's get this task completed for him then."

As she watched Anna and Emma follow Ailis, Murron realized T'Kar was still in the room, alone. She thought about it for a moment, remembering Will describing the Vulcan tendency to offer service when possible, and decided that T'Kar needed something to do.

"T'Kar, if it's not an imposition, would you be willing to assist us? There are several duties that must be performed to prepare his body for burial," she offered.

"I would be honored," T'Kar replied. As she followed the women up the stairs, she felt a modicum of satisfaction with the acceptance embedded in the request. Her expectations of the journey were to reunite with her _adun _for a time,and so much more was being revealed to her about human behavior.

Entering the room, she found the others, speaking together quietly in their native language, pausing when she entered. Murron waved her to join them, and smiled sadly. "We can always use more hands for these tasks, T'Kar. Thank you for your willingness to help."

With ancient hands and merciful words, Ailis explained each duty: washing the body, trimming the beard, clipping nails...and as she did, Anna sat nearby watching. It was not her duty to care for him any longer, and for that she felt rather lost.

Even as she dealt with the conflict she felt for her inaction, she found herself unable to remember the steps the women were following, as generations of women before them had. She had performed these duties for other families in the community many times over, as all of them had, but she was of no help to them now. After so many years of mercy for others, it was time for her to allow that same mercy to be returned.

"Anna...?"

"Hmm?"

"It's time, little sister," Murron said softly, and handed her the soft chambray burial clothes. The other women listened silently.

"I don't want to do this. I can't do it," she said as the grief struck her again.

"I know, love," Ailis answered kindly. "This will finish it. Consider it your last duty to him."

She nodded silently, holding the beautiful garment in her hands. As they dressed Will in his final wardrobe, she bade a silent farewell to the man that had been her companion, lover, and friend for so long; and wondered what exactly she was to do with herself from that point forward.

When Sarek returned from his errands, he noted that all the women returned to the gathering of family and friends, with exception of Emma. A logical, but short search found her wrapped up in his previous day's robes asleep on their bed. He quietly closed the bedroom door and walked to her, lying down behind her and snuggled up. Even as he pulled her close to him, she did not stir. He had almost fallen asleep himself when a light knock rapped on the door. Answering it, he found Sorel.

"Sarek, I have been monitoring Emma's medical readouts, and she must take time today to rest. She also must eat soon. Her blood sugar levels are dropping, and given the physical and emotional strain she is already under, we must ensure that her health is monitored carefully."

"Agreed. She is asleep at the moment, and I believe it not wise to wake her. I can feel her exhaustion through our bond," he replied.

"If she does not independently rise in two hours, then you must wake her. Ensure that she eats at that time."

He nodded and then quietly closed the door. Returning to her, she stirred in his arms.

"I woke when he knocked, and I don't want anything to eat, Sarek."

"For your health, you must, _aduna_."

"But I am not hungry."

"I surmise there is one thing you will eat…" He was brusquely interrupted.

"Nope, nothing," she paused. "Sorry. I just want to sleep for a while."

"Then sleep, my wife. Shall I stay with you?"

As if in silent answer, she rolled over and buried herself in his chest and neck, putting her arm around his waist and held tightly to him.

He looked down at her, holding her as another moment of grief struck her broadly. "As you wish, _k'diwa_."

Two hours later, Anna was making a pot of tea when Sarek entered the kitchen.

"Anna, where are the tomatoes?"

"Are you hungry?" she asked, momentarily relieved to find something to do. "I'll fix you something if you like, Sarek. You needn't prepare it yourself."

"No, I am not, and you must not concern yourself with my needs at this time. I will prepare mid-meal for my wife."

"Oh. The tomatoes are in the crisper," she replied, watching as he began to prepare food for her daughter. "What are you making?"

"Tomato sandwiches. She stated she does not wish to eat at this time; however, for the health of both her and our son, she must. She will eat this."

"How can you be so sure?" Anna asked, fully aware of just how stubborn Emma could be - she did come by it honestly, after all.

"I believe they are what you would call a 'craving' food."

She smiled for a moment as he completed two perfect sandwiches, and then departed the kitchen with their meal.

Emma rolled over, still in his robe, and inhaled his scent deeply from the collar. It was a comforting thing, and she was so thankful to not be alone in this time. She had learned to manage just about anything on her own after Bruce died, but this was definitely partnership territory. She heard footsteps and then the door opened.

"I knew you would come back," she said through a yawn. "But I am still not hungry."

Sarek decided to use a tactic he preferred to leave alone. "Skelan is in need of nourishment," he replied. Deciding to add incentive, he continued. "I have prepared tomato sandwiches."

Not only had he played the guilt-trip card, he was manipulating her with her favorite food, so she resigned herself to concede defeat _this _time and sat up, accepting the plate from him as they ate together quietly.

After yet another tasty tomato sandwich, she handed the plate back to him and then touched her fingers to his. /Thank you for looking after me. I am not making the best decisions right now./

"If you desire another, I shall prepare it for you. You only need ask."

She looked at him, and then at the empty plate.

"Yes," he said softly, "I will make you another."

Emma awoke from a second nap to hear several voices downstairs. Entering the living room, she found John Davis, the town joiner. He nodded at her gently.

"Hello, Emma."

"Mr. Davis, how are you?"

"I'd rather visit under different circumstances. I went to school with your dad. I'm gonna miss him," he said.

It was quiet for a moment.

"And leave it to me to say something like that, 'cause my loss is so much greater than yours," he said in self-effacing afterthought.

Emma interrupted gently. "Mr. Davis, it's nothing we've not all thought. I thank you for your service to him."

He nodded and smiled sadly, then signaled the other men with him to take the casket up to the bedroom. Sorel stood with T'Kar, their fingers paired.

"What are they doing, Emma?" she asked.

"It's called _'kistaning'_. They will place his body into the casket and then bring it out of the house." She paused a moment and took a deep breath. "It's the last time he'll be here."

A few moments later, the bedroom door opened, and a carefully guided effort brought the casket down. The family stood quietly and watched as John Davis followed, instructing the young men in procedure.

"As you take it out the door, it is always feet first. Michael, hold with one hand, open the door with the other - brace on your leg if you have to, one smooth motion...don't risk dropping it, son."

In a fluid motion, the door opened and they moved through. John looked at Ken and nodded as he followed them out. Ken walked to Sarek and asked him to collect a few items as the family followed outside. Sarek joined them with a large plate, salt, and soil from the garden. Before the joiner sealed the coffin, Ken placed the plate upon Will's chest, and then spoke. "The custom of 'earth laid upon the corpse' serves to remind us of two axioms, and to bring us hope."

Sarek handed him the container of soil, which Ken spread over one half the plate.

"Our bodies came from the Earth, and will decay, returning back to it." He paused as Sarek handed him the container of salt, which he spread over the empty half of the plate. "However, the salt will remain, as does the soul. Tomorrow at 1500 hours we will say goodbye to his body, but William will never be gone from us."

Sarek, Sorel, and T'Kar each found themselves in need of time for meditation after the intensity and suffering of the McLeod family over the previous days. Ken, having strongly agreed that these events were not the norm for a vacation, arranged for them to visit the village church in silence and solitude as needed to obtain the privacy and isolation they required for meditation. Being only a thirty minute walk from the house, they found the journey provided fruitful opportunities for conversation amongst themselves.

"Many of the customs of this culture are riddled with superstition, Sarek. I find them to be highly illogical," Sorel said.

"I must ask, Sorel, how many of _our _traditions are steeped in such ritual and mystery? I find sound reasoning in the ritual of salt and earth. It is highly similar to acknowledgment of the _katra_."

"Yes," T'Kar replied. "I found the rites performed for the preparation of his body were in accordance with many of our own. I would conclude that were our natural environments similar, perhaps there would be even greater correlations."

"I would ask a personal question, Sarek," Sorel began.

Sarek nodded.

"How is Emma accepting the loss of her father? I ask only because I recall Daniel's response to the deaths of his parents, and ultimately his entire family over time to be very difficult to read. He was often unwilling to seek assistance through his grief. T'Zan and I had to become… creative in that effort."

Sarek thought for a moment as they walk quietly toward home. "Emma is profoundly wounded by his death. While it would be acceptable for our people to grieve for a time and apportion that loss to meditation, humans are not designed to accept it in such a manner. She has not yet spoken of it to me directly. I believe that as she progresses through these early days, she will speak of it. She is very communicative, and unafraid to ask for help, albeit that request will come on her terms alone."

They nodded silently, then T'Kar spoke. "We are honored to perform any service that you require, _Shaile_. I surmise she will not know to ask, or will feel uncomfortable asking. Anna apologized to me early this morning for my visit with Sorel becoming a...fiasco."

Emma worked in solitude to prepare the master bedroom for use once again. After cleaning, dusting, vacuuming, and making the bed anew, she stopped and looked at old holopics of her family.

_Her_ _parent's wedding day...a honeymoon in Wales...Anna holding Emma the first time...Will earning his doctorate...fishing with daddy...gardening with Mum...their small family...Emma playing the cello for the first time at age seven...Will teaching Emma to use her new telescope..._

The final task given her by Ken before he and his family had gone home to rest was to clean and prepare Will's tartan. Opening the closet door, she found her daddy's wardrobe in immaculate order, as it had always been. Shirts were neatly pressed, coats ordered by weight, color and purpose, pairs of shoes lined out and polished, the four pair of actual trousers he owned still in near mint condition hanging next to the nine kilts that were in various stages of heavy wear and use.

Then she saw it hanging: his tartan, in the ancient weave, lay over a hangar after it's having been worn to the pub the previous night. She sat on the edge of the bed and began to cry. Deciding she could do that and continue cleaning, as the house was empty for the time being, she started to dust the stair rail.

Working her way down from the top, she paused four steps down in memory.

_6 March 2265_

_Will kissed seven-year-old Emma on the forehead after reading three books and obtaining two glasses of water. Emma's insatiable need to be involved in all of the goings on of family life would have to be put on hold for bed time._

_"No gettin' out of this, Emma. It's time for bed."_

_"But Da, it's only eight o'clock, and I am _not_ tired," she protested, failing in her attempt to stifle a yawn._

_"I see that, and I understand what you're saying', but you must sleep now."_

_"I just want to participate..."_

_Will looked at her, wondering how many other parents had children who wanted to stay up to 'participate'. "Emma, I love you, and goodnight. There'll be plenty to participate in on the morrow."_

_With that, he tucked her in, gently ran his hand down the side of her face, and turned the light out as he left. Walking down the stairs, he marveled at the mind that was growing inside the child. "Participate..." he chuckled as he joined Anna in the living room by the fire._

_"What are you laughin' at, my love?" she asked with a smile._

_He kissed her and sat on the sofa, welcoming her into his arms in the darkness. "Our daughter wishes to stay up later so that she may 'participate' in the evening with us...not to play or read or stargaze, mind ya...but 'participate'."_

_"She said that?"_

_"Indeed she did, and was rather frustrated that I wouldn't allow it. But, I surmise she'll forgive me," he said with a smile._

_Anna toyed with his beard a moment. "Come here."_

_He leaned in as she kissed him._

_"Ooh, what was that for?"_

_"Like I need a reason!" she laughed._

_"Anna...uhm...I know that you told me you weren't interested in going through labor again in the least bit, and not that I blame ya, but what do you think about having another baby?"_

_"Well, I did say that right after she was delivered, so I think I may have been biased," she smiled. "Are you wantin' another?"_

_"Aye, I think it might be nice to have one more, if you're up to it." He held her close to him, kissing her ear and neck._

_Emma managed to sneak out of her room and perch at the top of the stairs, and listened, wondering exactly what they were doing._

_They lay together in the firelight, and despite sincerely motivated interest, the mood was not going where either thought or hoped it would. _

_"Will?" Anna asked, putting her hand on his chest to stop them._

_"Hmm?" he replied, running his hands down her back inside her blouse, caressing her skin softly._

_"Is it such a good idea? Another child, I mean?" Anna asked._

_"You think not?" Will said, his hands lingering on her hips._

_"Well, Emma needs our attention all of the time. As much as I would love to have a baby again, I am not so certain it's the right decision. You said it yourself a moment ago: 'participate'. How many seven year olds want that? And the questions she asks..."_

_"Are there more?" he asked, his libido waning, quickly being replaced with concern._

_"Her teacher called on us today after school. Evidently Emma has completed the materials for this year and almost all of the next. She is reading three years ahead of the other children."_

_"Seriously? I know she reads well, but we've always read with her…"_

_Anna interrupted him gently. "She has completed math for the next two levels already."_

_Will sat up and looked at his wife in disbelief. "What? That's algebra, and I haven't taught her that yet."_

_"She figured it out, Will. On her own, and while a few things needed correction by the math teachers, they are moving her into more challenging material on Monday."_

_He just looked at her as she continued. "She is also having difficulty interacting with her peers."_

_"How? She is a great kid. She can get along with anyone."_

_"Anyone that is an adult, Will. Her classmates don't know how to interact with her, or she with them. Her teacher said that Emma does not play with the other children. She wants to spend her play time with the teachers, and asks a lot of questions. They're concerned, Will, as am I."_

_"Then we can't have any more," he said quietly. "It won't be good for her."_

_Anna looked at the disappointment on his face. She knew he wanted a son, and would gladly have gone through it all again for him. "Will, she is a remarkable and unique blessing, and deserves our very best. The moment we made her, it was not about us anymore, either of us. You know that."_

_He nodded._

_"I know you want a son, Will. But if we're to give her what she needs, we can't have any more children."_

_Emma sat frozen, confused, and suddenly no longer wished to participate. _

Aftershefinisheddusting the banister and railing, she walked into the living room and began straightening up, putting books and PADDs back where they belonged, fluffing cushions, and stoking the fireplace. As she set the overflowing basket of peat back down, she saw something under the bookshelf. She pulled it out and found an old picture she had forgotten about.

She knelt down in front of the fireplace and looked at herself in the picture: fourteen years old and as her father would have said 'having the look of her mother' with curly red hair, next to Bruce McGregor, on the sofa in that very living room.

Emma sighed and wiped the tears from her face. She remembered that night vividly. There were many more bouquets, meals with her family, black eyes and even a broken nose. Through it all, Bruce James McGregor earned her father's respect, becoming one of the youngest shuttle pilots to qualify in the enlisted training program. He worked tirelessly, or so he led Emma to believe, and each time he would return from space dock with something unusual for her.

She thought back to something she heard Elder Sulok say to one of the children at the embassy when they learned of the death of a grandparent. 'Death is only worth grieving if the individual's life was wasted.' She made a mental note to speak with him about that upon their return to San Francisco.

Emma placed her father's plaid and kilt upon his favorite chair and opened the chest that sat behind it. Inside were many things of value to the family - worthless to anyone else - those trinkets and heirlooms that pass from one generation to the next. She lifted the top tray from the chest to reveal something she'd not seen in ages...the kilts and plaids of family members long past.

As she took them out to better arrange them to accommodate the addition of Will's, she found a large envelope with her name on it. It was marked _18 February 2274_.

_7 February 2274_

_Bruce returned from space dock exhausted from a long training exercise, and as he was departing the public transport platform, he decided he would stop by to visit Emma before returning to his tiny flat. A distinct advantage to his training program was the stipend that helped him find a way out of his parent's house._

_Arriving at the McLeod house, he found it unusually quiet. At the door there was no smell of supper cooking, a visit to the garden found it untended, and then he heard the argument between Will and Anna._

_"I will not allow it, Will! She cannot just be sent away, especially not to some planet to be managed like an idiot by a species of people I know nothing about! I won't hear of it."_

_Bruce stood quietly and decided that while eavesdropping was not in his nature normally, he should be listening to this._

_"Anna, listen to me, darling. The Betazoid people are very kind, and they understand what to do for her. The specialists Ken and I spoke with are suspicious she's been misdiagnosed. There are too many things left unresolved. Honestly, do you think Emma is really mentally ill?"_

_"I don't know what to think anymore, Will," she said through frustrated tears. "She has become violent, another fight today, she stays isolated from everyone. I know she is depressed, I can see it. Her studies have fallen off completely. Do you know she told me she knew what Ailis MacGinnis was thinking when she and Ieuan were here for dinner the other night? WHO HEARS VOICES, WILL? She is sick!"_

_"Shh...Anna...come here…"_

_"No. I won't be placated into cooperating with this. You better give me some damned good reasons to package her up and send her away, Nathaniel. I did not birth her to just abandon her at this time of need. I am her mother!"_

_Bruce heard a slight noise behind him, and when he turned, he saw Emma there. She was sitting under the oak tree beside the garden, her knees tucked under her chin, face wet with tears, and a black eye from that afternoon's fight. He approached her quietly, and sat down in front of her._

_"Hi," he said quietly._

_She looked at him, her eyes showing darkened circles underneath, and stress in her face._

_"That's quite a shiner you got...who gave it?" he asked_

_"Eryn Davies...but you should see her, though."_

_"I don't doubt that for a moment. Come here," he beckoned, taking her into his arms. They sat and listened further._

_"Anna, quiet yourself and listen to me for a moment, woman! Dammit!" He paused, and looked at the floor. "Forgive me. Anna, they have a very high suspicion that Emma has an undiagnosed esper ability. Most humans never have it at all. They said studies are showing about 3% of the human population have any of these abilities, period._

_"They think that if she is 'hearing voices' that she is receiving projected emotions and thoughts, and because of her stable mental health up to now it's worth considering at least an evaluation."_

_"Ok, what does that mean, and how do they know about it?" she asked._

_"Betazoids are natural empaths and telepaths. They commonly communicate telepathically. In fact, one of our hosts joked about speaking out loud out of courtesy to us. It's in their nature, Anna. They have some of the best facilities for helping individuals deal with esper-related issues. They rival the Vulcans in that way, and honestly, if she were to go anywhere at all, I would prefer Betazed simply because of her emotional needs right now. The Vulcans are gifted, but they are not prepared to help with her emotional needs._

_"Anna, they said that most people who are undiagnosed with these types of issues at her age are never able to function within normal society. They requested all kinds of preliminary information about her, so I gave it to them. They believe she is in the lucky few who have a chance to survive and live normally._

_"I cannot sit idly by and watch my only child continue to suffer with misunderstanding and social abuse if there is something I can do about it. I am damned willing to quit my job right now and go with her if it means she will grow up as a healthy and happy woman. As much as I cannot believe I am about to say this, I don't want these issues to scare Bruce away from her. He is a good boy, and dammit, I like him. She needs him."_

_Bruce's jaw dropped open as Emma looked like a confused puppy._

_"William, no one is quitting anything, so let's drop that right now." She looked at him with great scrutiny. "You are certain this is the right thing for her?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Beyond a shadow of any doubt?"_

_"Yes, Anna."_

_"Ok, I will consider it further. How much is this going to cost us?"_

_"Nothing. They have offered their services to us. She only needs a place to live, and they will do the rest."_

_"You...are...certain?"_

_"Yes. I love my daughter, and I will not send her to something like this casually, Anna. I'd think you know me better than that by now, woman."_

Emma looked over the documents declaring her mental fitness to be sound, identifying her esper abilities, and documenting the courses of counseling and training she would undergo while on Betazed - an opportunity that came to her simply because of her father's love.

Was his life wasted? By no means. Perhaps she would be able to grow through this time of change and accept his death as a celebration of a life fulfilled by duty, responsibility, and true paternal love. She would try her best to do so.

The Vulcans approached the home quietly, and found it vacant with the exception of Emma in the kitchen cooking supper. As Sorel and T'Kar excused themselves, Sarek joined her.

"_Aduna_."

She turned to him and gave a small smile, pairing her fingers to his. "Hello, _t'hy'la_. Were you able to find an appropriate place for meditation?"

"Yes. I see you have been industrious."

"I needed cleaning therapy. It's good for the _katra_. Are you hungry?"

"Yes, I am. You have prepared _balkra_?"

"Yes, and the _kreyla _will come out of the oven in fifteen minutes. Have you got some time to talk?"

"Of course."

She made tea for them and they sat at the kitchen table.

"What would you speak of?" he asked quietly.

"I have been thinking about what Sulok said to T'Naara about the death of her grandmother."

"Yes."

"I have also been thinking about how Daddy's life was not a waste." She paused to wipe the tears from her eyes. "I can't just make myself pretend to act as if it does not hurt, but it's a great solace to know that in of itself."

"I do not expect you to deal with this loss in any other manner than natural for you. It is acceptable to me that you understand the merit of his life and realize it as negation of loss."

She reached for his hand. "Thank you. I am grateful for the support you have given me, Sarek."

"You are my wife, to do anything else would be illogical. I must ask, where is your mother?"

"She went home with Ken and Murron. I needed to clean and sterilize the bedroom before she could use it again. Uncle Ken set me to work."

"I see. Will she return for dinner?"

"No, she will stay with them this evening, and return tomorrow morning."

Just as the timer was about to ring, Sarek nodded. "They are ready. I shall inform our guests that end-meal is prepared."

23 December 2295

In the early morning hours, Emma awoke to the darkness of their bedroom. Sarek slept soundly, his chest rising and falling with slow, deep breaths. She rose quietly, put on her robe, and stepped into the hallway. She stood in her parent's bedroom and thought about the previous day, thankful that her father's suffering was over, and missing him at the same time.

Deciding on a cup of tea, she began to walk down the hall and heard a distinctly whispered '..._k'diwa t'nash-veh..._' from the guest room, and then quickly hurried herself down the stairs, willing the intimacies that accompanied the verbalization she'd just heard to leave her mind.

It was perfectly understandable for them to partake in joining after separation followed by such stress. She knew she would certainly feel horrified to know anyone at the embassy had ever heard her and Sarek engage in sexual intimacy.

Sarek awoke to find her absent from their bed, and after waiting a reasonable amount of time for her to return, he rose to find her. He saw the dim light at the bottom of the stairs and as he passed down the hallway, his hearing picked up the intimacies taking place in the other bedroom. Silently, he continued down the stairs and found her in front of the fireplace.

"Emma? Are you all right?"

"Yes, love. I just woke up and decided on tea. The water's about to boil, will you join me?"

"I shall prepare it."

A moment later, he reappeared with two steaming mugs in hand. He sat with her on the sofa and thought carefully about how to respond to the thoughts running through her mind.

"I am certain your awareness of their activities was unintentional, but you must not speak of it with them, Emma."

"I most certainly would not. It just made me wonder about some issues generally...between us."

He looked at her quietly and sipped his tea. If she wished to speak of this, then she must learn to express herself to him.

"You have been most accommodating to my desires since we have bonded, but, well...I need to know if I am asking too much of you. I certainly am hopeful that is not the case. I enjoy our intimacy, but I will feel bad if I am taking advantage of your willingness to accommodate me."

"Were your desires to tax my willingness to accommodate your innate need for intimacy, I would speak of that with you, Emma. You ask very little of me. I find it a logical to provide for all your needs, even if that includes those of a sexual nature." He paused as a stray thought pushed through her control. "And no, I do not engage in those activities with you simply out of a sense of duty. You are my wife, the focus of all my attentions."

"It seems a ludicrous time to speak of such things," she said.

"If it arises, it must be addressed. Is there anything else of which you wish to speak?"

"Not right now. I think I would like to return to bed."

Fifteen hundred hours found them at the small church that had been in the community for hundreds of years. The building itself was originally constructed in 1755, and had endured several renovations over the centuries. The arched doorway was short enough that the Vulcans had to stoop down to enter, and once everyone who could fit into the small building was inside, Will's funeral began.

Their minister spoke of the importance of recognizing the value of a life spent well, of service to the community, the importance of maintaining culture, and love of family. He described all of these things in Will, and when his piece was finished, an invitation was made to the assembled to offer their memories of Will's life, and to encourage one another to remember him for it rather than grieve his death alone.

Schoolmates remembered his proclivity for getting into mischief...Friends talked of his sense of humor...Fellow citizens spoke of his generosity in times of need.

Anna spoke of love, persistence, and pride in his culture. Through teary eyes she described his joy at being able to travel throughout the Federation with Ken and the Diplomatic Corps as they worked to integrate new sentient species into the growing diversity of their existence. She described his love for learning, and teaching the children of their island upon his retirement. She described the unfailing faithfulness and loyalty of an extraordinary husband and father.

Nine year old Moira Buchanan stood, wiped her eyes, and spoke softly. "Dr. McLeod was my teacher, and I miss him. I will recite the last poem he taught to us this year, please."

Fareweel to Scotia by William Air Foster

Fareweel to ilka hill where the red heather grows,

To ilk bonnie green glen whaur the mountain stream rows,

To the rock that re-echoes the torrent's wild din,

To the graves o' my sires and the hearths o' my kin.

Fareweel to ilk strath an' the lav'rocks sweet sang -

For trifles grow dear when we've kenn'd them sae lang;

Round the wanderer's heart a bright halo they shed,

A dream o' the past when a' others have fled.

The young hearts may kythe though they're forced far away,

But it's dool to the spirit when haffets are grey;

The saplin' transplanted may flourish a tree,

Whaur the hardy auld aik wad but wither and dee.

They tell me I gang whaur the tropic suns shine,

Ower landscapes as lovely and fragrant as thine;

For the objects sae dear that the hearth had entwined

Turn eeriesome hame-thoughts, and sicken the mind.

No, my spirit shall stray whaur the red heather grows!

In the bonnie green glen whaur the mountain stream rows,

'Neath the rock that re-echoes the torrent's wild din,

'Mang the graves o' my sires and the hearths o' my kin.

As Moira recited each line one by one, the assembled listened quietly. Some silently spoke with with her - but everyone knew it. Although Emma had selected a poem her father loved dearly, she decided that Moira's contribution was a fitting end to it.

Ken stood, followed by Sarek and four other clansmen and the mourners left the sanctuary. Together, the men lifted six poles, set them in place under the casket and gently performed_ an Togail, _the lifting.

Walking out of the church, they settled the casket onto a cairn and performed a change of hands. Under the ancient tradition, the changing of hands took place such to allow the casket bearers a chance to rest. Ken found there were so many volunteers outside waiting to carry, that Sarek quickly and efficiently scheduled several changes to accommodate all those wishing to assist as they proceeded to the family's cemetery.

Upon instruction and arrangement of all involved, Ken assumed his place at the front of the casket, accompanied by the men of the clan, while Anna and Emma fell in behind with the women.

As they walked to the cemetery, those who had not attended the funeral parked their flitters at the sides of the roads, and stepped out to allow them passage, many following in line behind. Once they arrived at the gravesite, the casket was lowered, and each person tossed in a handful of soil as they passed by. In the distance, Daniel played his pipes for his uncle, beginning with "The Flowers o' the Forest", and ending with "William's Lullaby".

As the service drew to conclusion, the crowd of people offered condolences to the family and departed. As Anna sat quietly watching as the men completed filling the grave, a man walked up to her quietly.

"Excuse me, Mrs. McLeod?"

"Yes?"

"My name is Michael Stuart, and I am an engraver. I was tasked by Doctor McLeod to bring this to his funeral and set it, with your approval, of course."

He brought a modest headstone of native granite to her on an anti-grav unit. She read the inscription Will had chosen for himself. The family gathered round to read Will's last desire for his remembrance, his favorite poem "Requiem" by his favorite poet, Robert Louis Stevenson. Emma read it out loud with a sense of strong familial irony, as it was the poem she had chosen.

_Under the wide and starry sky, dig the grave and let me lie._

_Glad I did live and gladly I die and I laid me down with a will._

_This be the verse you gave for me:_

_Here he lies where longed to be._

_Home is the sailor, home from the sea,_

_And the hunter home from the hill._

_William Nathaniel McLeod_

_b. Kyleakin 14 October 2237_

_d. Kyleakin 22 December 2295_

Anna smiled. "Mr. Stuart, it's perfect. Thank you."

"Yes ma'am," he answered softly, and then turned to set the stone.

26 December 2295

Emma lay snuggled up under a blanket in her father's favorite chair, as she had done for so many years. Anna walked in to the living room and stopped short, observing her daughter, and then tucking the blanket in just a little. As the flitter pulled up outside, she quietly walked to the door and met Daniel and his wife Cassie on the porch.

"Hello you two! Cassie, how much longer do ya have?"

"Eight weeks. I think I am going to pop," she smiled in reply.

"No, you look lovely. Well, here are the keys. Promise me you will take good care of the garden, Daniel."

"Yes ma'am. Aunt Anna, are you sure about this? It's so soon after...and it's your home."

"Daniel, you will never know what your father sacrificed for Will and me. This is your birthright - it's your home now. There should always be a McLeod in this house; it should never stand empty. Maintain the traditions of this clan, honor your name. Raise your family, and tell your grandchildren about their great-great-uncle Will, ok? That is payment enough."

He nodded sadly. "So what are you gonna do now then? Where will you go?" he asked, as Cassie gently placed her arm around his waist.

"Me? I am doing something I never got to do."

He looked at her with confusion.

"I think I am gonna to college!"

As they continued to talk, the embassy shuttle landed quietly in the street, the door opened, and Soran approached quietly.

"Peace and long life, _T'Sai _Anna."

Sarek and Sorel walked out of the home first, followed by their bond-mates, as Jenny helped to load belongings into the shuttle. As final departure preparations were made, Ken and Murron approached Anna.

"Anna, I thank you for this gift to my son. You did not have to, you know," Ken said.

"I know, and it's my pleasure to do it. Besides, I am not gonna be here now. I have a whole new life waiting for me to find it."

Murron's eyes softened and she hugged her sister tightly. "You've always been here. I'm gonna miss ya."

"Don't worry, Murron, I'll be back." She smiled and kissed her sister on the cheek. She hugged Ken and climbed aboard the shuttle, waving through the window.

Sarek approached Ken. "Is there anything else that requires attention before we depart?"

"No, Sarek. You helped to relieve a tremendous burden for me. I thank you for your service."

"It is my honor to serve this family," he said, looking all of them, and raised his hand in the Vulcan salute. "Live long and prosper."

"Peace and long life, _Shaile,_" Daniel replied, saluting him in reply.

As the Vulcans boarded the shuttle, and the door closed, Ken watched while Murron stood in his arms. So much had changed - so much had ended, yet in the place of death, life once again was rising forth. As the shuttle lifted off and entered the flight line, they stood and watched, waiting until they could see it no longer.

_Author's Note: The social customs and familial behaviors described surrounding the death and burial of William McLeod were developed from research regarding funerary rites in the Hebridean Islands. All references to specific customs and reasoning for them were taken from the dissertation of Dr. F. G. Vallee. The document, "Burial and Mourning Customs in a Hebridean Community", was written in 1955, and can be found for further enlightenment in the archives of The Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute of Great Britian, volume 85, number 1 of 2, pages 119 to 130._


	8. Wherever the Day May Lead

26 December 2295

Anna sat quietly on the shuttle, her nerves getting the best of her as they prepared for landing at the Vulcan Embassy. Emma reached to her and held her hand for a moment. "You ready, Mum?"

"Yeah. So, what happens now?" Anna asked.

"The men will depart first," she paused, understanding the surprised look her mother gave her, "and I will explain later. It's not what you think - just trust me on this right now, ok? We follow, and I will assist you and Jenny through the security process. This is Vulcan soil, and there are strict entry policies we must adhere to. Just remember one very important thing," Emma paused.

"What's that?" Anna asked.

"A woman of Skye fears no Vulcan."

Anna looked at Emma and smiled. "This is true. She doesn't."

Soran expertly performed a soft landing, and secured the craft. As the door opened, the cool air of San Francisco bay blew around them. As they approached the waiting staff, Anna wondered what she had gotten herself into.

Sarek was greeted formally by a rather formidable looking security contingent, and then what appeared to be an attaché.

"Live long and prosper, _Kevet-Dutar_," Sulok said as he bowed to Sarek.

"Peace and long life to you, Sulok," he replied. Turning to T'Lyra, he spoke. "Lady Emma's family will take residence in the empty apartment. See that their belongings are brought there after clearance is granted by Savel."

"Yes, _Shaile_."

Sarek proceeded into the embassy.

Savel approached Emma. "Greetings, _T'Sai_ Emma. I was informed of the death of your father. _Tushah nash-veh, Osavensu_."

"_Nemaiyo_, Savel," she said, turning to a new member of the security department. "I do not know you."

He was very tall, very young, and broad shouldered. While some might have misunderstood his serious demeanor as more Vulcan than necessary, she could sense his internal struggle to maintain control of an odd insecurity.

Savel watched Stalos carefully as he answered her.

"I am Stalos, _T'Sai_."

"You bear an ancient name. When did you arrive?" she asked. She was uncomfortable with the young Vulcan, but could not place why exactly.

"Three days ago, Lady Emma."

"Well, Stalos, I am certain you will carry your duties and service out to their fullest conclusion," she said quietly. "Savel, this is my mother, Anna McLeod, and my cousin Jenny McLeod," she said, handing him their identification packets.

He selected Anna's dossier, retrieving her Federation passport, and opened it. She unflinchingly maintained eye contact with him as he scrutinized her in comparison with the document. When he nodded, Stalos approached silently and prepared a retinal scanner.

"Welcome to the Vulcan Embassy grounds, _T'Sai_. Stalos will conduct a retinal verification and perform a security scan."

"Thank you," she answered quietly.

"Look straight ahead, Lady Anna," Stalos instructed.

As she did, he held a small scanner that took readings of each of her eyes, and verified she carried no weapons or malicious items. The scanning device promptly produced an identification badge for her.

"You must wear it at all times when not on the third floor. Should you depart the grounds, you must provide the badge to gain immediate re-entry," Savel said as he fastened it to her blouse.

As the process began again for Jenny, Emma stood with her mother. She sensed bewilderment and fear in her.

"It's going to be ok, Mum," she whispered.

"Are they always like this?"

"Yes. With everyone. They are our security force, and a large part of why I sleep soundly every night."

"What other rules do I need to know about?" Anna asked, with trepidation.

"It's actually pretty common sense stuff. We will go over it later today, Mum. I want you to get settled in first. You are getting my old apartment," she offered with a hint of a smile.

Savel approached Emma again. "They are cleared for access to the Embassy. Shall I instruct them in procedure?"

"No, Savel, thank you. I will attend to it. I accept responsibility for them. Thank you for your service."

He bowed in that delightfully Vulcan way and left silently, followed by the security team. Sulok and T'Lyra approached.

"Mum, they will call you _T'Sai_. It is a title of respect, meaning 'Lady'. If you wish them to only call you by your name, you must tell them, as they will not presume to do so. Also, they will not expect you to give the _ta'al_ in return. They only expect you to be what you are."

"What is that, exactly?" Anna asked.

"Human." She smiled at her mother and squeezed her hand gently.

Sulok raised his hand in the _ta'al_ and spoke. "_Dif-tor heh smusma, Osavensu_."

"_Osu_, thank you. It is good to see you again," she replied lowering her hand back to her side. "Please allow me to introduce my family. My mother Anna, and my cousin Jenny."

Sulok and T'Lyra bowed graciously.

"We were informed of Dr. McLeod's death. We grieve with thee, Lady Anna," Sulok said.

"Thank you. I appreciate your kindness. Please, just call me Anna."

T'Lyra looked at Jenny. "I understand you have been accepted to the Vulcan Science Academy."

"Yes ma'am," Jenny answered quietly.

"Your study of _Vulkahnsu_ will begin tomorrow morning. I will bring the materials you must begin studying to your quarters. Your belongings are being brought there at this time. You will accompany me," T'Lyra requested.

Soran approached them and spoke to Emma. "The ambassador requires your attendance at this time."

"Understood," she answered. "Mum, T'Lyra will assist you both in settling in. Do not hesitate to ask for assistance if you need anything, ok? We will see you at our quarters for end meal at 1800 hours."

Anna watched her daughter turn and walk away, and wondered what the coming months would have in store. It was exciting, new, and frightening all at once.

Emma walked with Soran down the hall, passing her favorite Picasso, and knocked on Sarek's office door lightly.

"Come, _aduna_," he said, rising to meet her. "I have received instructions to proceed to the Izarian system immediately. I do not have an estimated return date as of now."

"Ok, what can I do to assist your preparations?"

"I have prepared a list of items; however, Soran will travel with me, and is making the final preparations as we speak. I have assigned T'Lyra to serve as your personal assistant from this point forward."

"Thank you, Sarek, she will be a great help. Will you eat with us tonight?"

"Yes."

She smiled at him and then left to find her mother. As she walked through the halls, she was found by T'Naara.

"_Osavensu_?"

"Hello, T'Naara. It's good to see you again," Emma answered. "I know that Vulcans do not celebrate birthdays, but Humans do. If I am correct, yours is today."

"Yes, it is."

"Then in the custom of my people, Happy Birthday, T'Naara."

"Thank you. My grandfather told us that your father died," she said.

Silently cursing the Vulcan tendency for bluntness, Emma looked in to the dark, brown eyes that observed her. "Yes, he did."

T'Naara took a step closer to her. "_Tushah nash-veh, Osu_."

Unaware that both Savel and T'Pola were approaching, Emma knelt down to look her pupil in the eyes, at her level.

"T'Naara, you are most kind. But I must tell you something: even though I miss my father very much, and I feel very sad about it, I have decided not to grieve his death. Do you know why?"

"Yes. His life was not wasted," she replied quietly.

"That is correct. I thank you for thinking of me and offering such support. Your friendship and service honor me."

Savel spoke softly. "T'Naara, your studies await you."

Bowing to her father's authority, the young girl left. Emma rose and watched her climb the stairs and disappear from sight.

Having found her new home and been warned about the second floor being off-limits, Anna decided to venture out on her own. She found the entrance to the embassy gardens. While much of the flora was dormant for winter, she explored it anyway, wondering exactly who she needed to bribe or cajole to do some gardening of her own in the spring.

As she walked farther and farther out, she came to an isolated fountain and sat on the cold, granite bench. She bundled herself tightly in her plaid as an old Vulcan approached her from the opposite side.

"Anna, may I join you?" Sulok asked.

"Certainly - Sulok, correct?"

"Yes."

"Please forgive the slip of memory; I have been taking a lot in today, I fear."

"It is of no consequence. There is always much to learn," he said, pausing as he observed the genetic influence she'd had on Emma. "Often the changes in life that present the greatest difficulty bear the healthiest fruit if allowed to temper us."

She looked at the elder Vulcan for a moment. "Indeed, Sulok, they do. I'd like to thank you for encouraging my daughter. She has spoken of you specifically to us since she started here in March. I understand she is learning to play an instrument under your instruction. She called it a _vluhn_, a type of drum?"

"Yes. Emma is an excellent student. She is the first I have taken in many years. I find teaching her to be challenging. I often find I must utilize all of my experiences to accommodate her learning needs. It is refreshing," he replied.

"That's my daughter, for certain," she answered with a soft smile. "She was always a challenge to her teachers."

"Indeed. May I ask what brings you to the gardens in this cold?" Sulok asked.

"I love tending gardens, and when I saw it as we were preparing to land, I decided I needed to find the gardener and ask if I could help. I have tended gardens all my life. It soothes me. With all the changes in recent days, I could benefit from the stability of it."

"I welcome your assistance," he said with the faintest twinkle in his eyes as hers met his.

Sarek and Emma sat quietly in front of the fire pot, drinking their nightly tea. Her mind was unusually quiet, but occasional thoughts would surface. He touched his fingers to hers for a moment, and relished the surge of their bond. She smiled at him, and laid her head upon his shoulder. Finally, she broke the silence of the moment. "What time will you leave in the morning?"

"Oh-five-hundred hours," Sarek answered.

"I will miss you. I have grown accustomed to your being here with me," she said softly, a moment passing. _"Th'y'la_?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you for everything: Mum, Jenny - everything - and don't tell me it was the logical thing to do. I know it was, but I am grateful, nonetheless."

He looked at his young wife and sat up for a moment. Touching his fingers to hers, he responded. "Emma, I am honored to serve my family."

She leaned in for a gentle kiss.

"We will retire, _aduna_."

Once prepared for sleep, they lay quietly together in the dark. Emma snuggled up in his arms, her head on his shoulder. His hand lay gently on her hip, and then traveled to her belly. He felt where the baby slept securely in her body and kissed her forehead.

"Care for yourself and our son while I am away, Emma. I much prefer to return to find you both in safety."

"As do I," she smiled in the darkness, "as do I."

Sarek rose quietly in the darkness, gently retrieving his arm from under her neck. She stirred momentarily, returning to sleep almost immediately. As he dressed in preparation for departure, he watched her sleep. Even with the advantage of a tall frame and solid build, Emma was beginning to show, and he found her appearance to be quite pleasing. He sat on the edge of the bed and touched his fingers to hers. Her eyes opened, and she smiled at him.

"Is it time to go?"

"Yes, _aduna_. We depart in eleven point four minutes," he answered.

"Ok. Be safe, and come home soon."

He heard Soran enter their apartment, and pause in the living room.

"It is time to board the shuttle. I will contact you soon, Emma. _Taluhk nash-veh, k'diwa_."

"And I love you..."

Emma awoke to the chime of their door bell. She answered the door to find Sorel waiting.

"_Ha'tha ti'lu_, Sorel. Please come in."

"Good morning, Emma," he replied, beginning the usual morning scan. "Once you are dressed, we shall perform a comprehensive scan. I will await you."

A few minutes later, they arrived in the med-unit. As T'Pola performed the secondary evaluation, Sorel loaded all the data from their visit to Skye.

"Emma, I am concerned with your weight loss," she said. "You have lost eight point four two pounds in the past seven days. Detail your nutritional intake."

"Well, I ate when I could...there was, well, a lot of stress."

"Whether or not stress exists, you must maintain sufficient nutrition for both the healthy development of your son and your own sustained resilience during this pregnancy. To fail in this could cause the fetus to develop improperly. His birth will be accompanied by complications."

"Agreed," Sorel chimed in. "I find your health to be unsatisfactory at present. Skelan's physical development must be carefully nurtured during the months of your pregnancy. You must make a better effort than is presently demonstrated, Emma, regardless of how you may be affected by events in your personal life."

She never thought it possible to be shamed by a Vulcan, let alone two of them. In classic McLeod form, she tried to avoid the discomfort of the confrontation with humor. "Now I have both of you to worry about," she teased, realizing quickly that they were not interested in the intricacies of human jest. "What will you have me do then?"

As the left eyebrows returned to their normal positions, T'Lyra spoke first. "You will document all nutritional intake. Additionally, I am prescribing nutritional supplements to be consumed in the morning and evening."

"I am developing an exercise regimen. I would recommend activities with lower impact potential on your joints, particularly as you progress through the pregnancy," Sorel answered.

"Despite your loss of weight and lower nutrition over the past seven days, the fetus now weighs eleven point two ounces, and is seven point three inches in length," T'Pola said, as the scan of the tiny baby came into focus. "He is developing normally, although his growth is occurring in an unpredictable pattern. We will monitor this closely."

Emma sat in the living room reading in front of the fire pot, her toes warming. The com-unit chimed softly. Anna stood and answered it, to find her son-in-law.

"Sarek! How are you?"

"I am well. Have you adjusted to conditions at the embassy?"

"Yes, I have, thank you. T'Lyra has been quite helpful. Can I get Emma for you?"

"Yes."

"Just a moment then," she smiled, walking to the living room. "Emma, he is on the com for you."

Emma made her way to the study and smiled when she saw him. "Hi," she said as she closed the door.

"_Aduna_, I received communication from both Sorel and T'Pola regarding the status of your current health," he said, immediately getting to the point. She found that quite irritating at times.

"Yeah, about that - "

"I will not tolerate your failure to maintain appropriate nutrition for either yourself or that of our son," he interrupted firmly. "I realize the death of your father has been very difficult for you, and I endeavor to empathize with you in this; however, you cannot allow this to continue. Do you understand? It is unacceptable."

She sat in silence, looking at his image, just listening. He continued.

"Your body will undergo tremendous stress in the coming months. Should you allow such nutritional deficit to continue, the last months of this pregnancy will be highly taxing on you both physically and emotionally. I do not wish this time to be unsatisfying for you."

She nodded quietly, and then the tears began to flow. She would not look at him directly, but would not look away either.

"Will my wife not look at me?"

She complied. "Do you think that I just refuse to eat out of sheer rebellion? Do you sincerely think that I, of all women, would just do something to hurt my son? That I would say 'hey, let's see if I can lose another one, just for fun?' and then follow through on that?"

It was his turn to sit quietly.

"You have nothing to say now? You had plenty a minute ago. If you wanted to pick a fight with me, then you succeeded. Don't back off now. The last thing I want is to harm our son, Sarek. Honestly, do you think so little of my intentions?"

"It is not your intentions that I question, Emma. It is your judgment. The morning your father died you said you were not making good decisions."

"Don't you dare use that against me right now, Sarek..."

Anna sat still in the living room, trying to not hear the argument that was taking place.

"I am not using anything against you, Emma - "

"I am doing the best that I can right now. I was already made to feel like a fool this morning. They both shamed me for the weight loss. It is not intentional. I am complying with their instructions fully. If you cannot be supportive, then why call at all? I understand why you cannot be here: your job requires your absence, but I don't put you down for doing your best. Dammit. Is there anything else you would like to patronize me about or are you quite finished?"

"I am finished," he said quietly, his right eyebrow raised.

"Did they bother to tell you that he is eleven point two ounces and seven point three inches long? Or that he is starting to hiccough? Did they inform you that means his digestive system is beginning its higher development properly?"

"No. They spoke only of the concerns they had."

"Well, he is, and it is. He is moving more now than before, and I think I heard him again this afternoon after I went swimming. Look, I need some time to clear my mind. Sleep well, Sarek," she said, and then disconnected the call.

Donning her ID badge, a pair of shoes, and her plaid, she left the apartment for a walk in the gardens. The com-unit chimed again, and Anna dutifully answered it, finding Sarek.

"Hi there," she said.

"I will speak with my wife," he said quietly.

"Uhm, well, she left for a walk," she answered softly.

He exhaled quietly, and nodded. Anna observed him, and then took a risk.

"Sarek, may I be so rude as to offer some advice? It's terribly gauche of me, and if you would rather I not speak on it, tell me and I will leave this where it lies," she paused.

"Continue," he said.

"Emma is very much like her father in some ways that will really matter to you both in your relationship. Will was very sensitive, and while he would try his best to do things correctly - to meet deadlines, to pay extraordinary attention to detail - it was difficult for him to accept criticism, especially when that criticism was well intended and constructive.

"I was there when little William died...we all were. I do know how she felt, what she experienced. She was not our only child. Before her, I had a very bad miscarriage, and while I did not have three days with my baby, his loss was devastating. I can tell you that she is terrified of losing this little boy. She has not said it, but I see it in her eyes.

"For what it's worth, I am making sure that she eats properly, Jenny and I are exercising with her now, and we will do all we can. Sarek, I know that she loves you, and is overjoyed to have Skelan on the way. We will support her, and while that is good, she needs your encouragement, not condescension."

He thought for a moment. "I did not intend a patronizing or condescending interaction. I am merely concerned for her and our son."

"I know that, and deep down, if she's honest with herself, she knows it, too. Another trait she shares with her father is that she will punish herself in excess for failure. I think it is a result of the intensity with which we educated her in her very first years. She failed so rarely, when it did happen, it was a big surprise. It's one of many regrets I have about how I raised my daughter," she said honestly.

"Regret. It serves no purpose," he said.

"Unless you have an opportunity to amend choices you made in the past because a new future has been given you."

Sarek looked at Anna pointedly, and then nodded. For someone who knew nothing of his decisions regarding raising Spock, she spoke volumes of truth in the matter. "Please ask Emma to contact me when she returns. I wish to speak with her."

Emma walked quietly through the gardens, the gravel walkway crunching softly under her feet. She wiped the tears from her face when Sulok approached.

"Lady Emma, something brings you distress?" he asked.

"My own poor judgment more than anything," she answered.

"Would you speak of this?"

"I learned this morning that I am losing too much weight right now, and it has potential to bring harm to our son. I am trying to follow the nutritional requirements that _Ohakausular_ Sorel and T'Pola have set forth for me. I am also trying to cope with my father's death, and I just don't feel like eating. I have to force myself to do so."

"T'Naara told me that you spoke of how his life was not wasted," he said quietly.

"No, it was not. I gladly celebrate that, and I miss him terribly, _Osu_."

"It is a paradox, death is. It presents us with great challenge, and great opportunity, even more so than life itself."

She looked at the ancient face before her, dark black-brown eyes shining in the lights of the garden. "_Nemaiyo, Shaile_."

Sulok bowed slowly to her, turned and walked away.

Returning to her quarters, Emma found a note taped to the door from her mother.

_Sweet Emma, _

_He called back just after you left. He wishes to speak with you. Please honor your husband, grant him the respect that is his due, and speak with him tonight. I understand your frustrations, but Sarek deserves much better than what you gave to him this evening. We will see you for breakfast._

_Mum_

Emma dialed the code and waited. He answered before the second ring.

"Hi."

"_K'diwa_."

"Sarek, I am sorry. I don't know what else to say."

"Emma, I ask your forgiveness, as I caused you offense this evening. I desire your safety, and that of our son.

"I know you do, love.

A moment of silence passed by.

"He is experiencing hiccoughs?" Sarek asked.

She nodded and smiled softly.

"What does it feel like?" he asked.

10 January 2296

Emma and Sonek were working through his parts in the student composition: line by line they worked, one measure at a time, then two, and then three. He was what her father would have called 'a quick study'.

It suddenly came to her that her baby was moving, and a lot. It was almost uncomfortable, but she was so excited she didn't care.

"_Osavensu_, are you well?" Sonek asked, concerned.

"Oh yes, very much so," she said with a smile. "Sonek, I would like to end early today please. You will continue to practice pages thirteen and fourteen, add page fifteen, and complete the etude we began today. I will hear you again on Monday."

The boy bowed and left quietly, books in hand. Emma quickly made her way to the medical center.

"T'Pola, I can feel him moving around in there!" she smiled widely.

"Lie on the table, please. We shall attempt to document this movement and evaluate his development."

As the scan began, Sorel entered. "Emma, your heart rate accelerated rather quickly."

"He is moving, Sorel, I feel him," she said with delight in her eyes.

"Emma, you have gained eight pounds. Commencing detailed activity scan now."

T'Pola said. "The baby is now nine inches in length and weighs fourteen ounces. His progress is improving."

They all watched the image of the tiny baby form. Little toes wiggled slowly as his legs would stretch out and then return to a rested position. As the scanner moved over her abdomen and scanned his face, his left arm moved upward, his hand touching his cheek momentarily. Two little eyebrows rose and then fell into place slowly as he appeared to yawn.

His nose was more developed now, showing the arch of his father's, and the points of his ears were more defined. Black fuzz was beginning to grow. As the scanner made a second pass, he turned his face away from it, scrunching his nose and covering his eyes with his hands.

"It is done, _itsk sa-kan_," T'Pola said quietly as she turned the scanner off.

Emma thought about the tenderness of the affectation 'tiny boy'...it seemed to be the kind of thing a mother would say.

Sorel made calculations and then spoke. "Emma, you have made acceptable progress in your weight gain, and the child is healthy. Continue in your current activities, and increase your caloric intake to 2,500 per day. However, you must monitor your sodium consumption. The levels are in the high end of accepted norms. I prefer them to be lower for you."

"I will do it. May I have a file of that scan, please?" she asked.

"It has already been sent to your com-id," T'Pola said, knowing why she asked for it.

Emma made her way up to her mother's quarters and rang the chime. Anna answered it and smiled.

"Silly girl, you can always come in, you know," she said, giving her daughter a hug.

"I know, but I respect your privacy... I have something to show you."

Anna watched the scan of her grandson as he moved and demonstrated his dislike of the procedure. She wiped her eyes and smiled. "He has the look of his father. So handsome..."

"Yes, he does," Emma answered.

Sarek closed the briefing with the diplomatic delegation and retired to his quarters. As he changed into his evening robes and sat with a cup of tea, he was profoundly aware of the absence of his wife when he heard the com-unit chime. Rising to retrieve the message, he was pleased to see her face on the screen.

_Hello, _K'diwa_. _

_I wanted to let you know that we conducted an unscheduled scan a few moments ago as our son decided to become very active. I could feel him moving, Sarek, a lot! I have attached the video file to this message for you to see._

_T'Pola said I have gained eight pounds, and that Skelan now weighs fourteen ounces, and is nine inches long. She and Sorel are pleased with the improvement, but Sorel has increased my caloric intake to 2,500 per day. I don't think it's possible to eat that much each day, but I will do it._

_Things are going well with preparations for the concert, although I will not be conducting. Terry Behrens will conduct for me. She sends her regards, by the way. _

_Anyway, I wanted to let you know that both Skelan and I are doing well, I am following my healer's instructions, and life is as normal as it can be around here. I miss you. Do you know when you might be coming home yet? Please take care of yourself, my husband._ Taluhk nash-veh, t'hy'la.

"Computer."

"Working."

"Playback attached video file."

He watched as the video ran its course, and the face of another son of Sarek revealed itself. The nose, eyebrows, ears, and eyes were his. But the striking difference was in the forming cheek bones, mouth, and chin. This young man would certainly show the contribution of his mother. He wondered about the color of his son's eyes...

31 January 2296

Emma had never felt so sore in her life. Her back hurt badly, and then there was the matter of the cramps she kept getting in her legs. Instead of waiting for Sorel to arrive for their morning appointment, she made her way to the medical unit and found him there in consultation with T'Pola.

"_Ha'tha ti'lu_, Emma. Are you feeling unwell?" he asked.

"No, not really, I just have an amazing backache this morning, and my legs keep cramping."

"Lie on the scanner," T'Pola said. "You have gained eighteen pounds to date, Emma. Your sodium levels have also lowered into a more acceptable range. Potassium and magnesium levels are normal."

"The baby is now one point seven pounds, and fourteen inches in length. It is time to evaluate the development of his cardiac function," Sorel said. "Lie completely still."

Sorel began an intensive scan of the natal heartbeat, and as the scan recorded the procedure, he listened closely to the tiny flutter. Focusing the scan directly on the heart, they were able to observe the tiny organ hard at work.

"The fetal pulse is steady at 225 beats per minute. There are no apparent fluctuations and the scan verifies appropriate development of the heart and circulatory system. The heart is located in accordance with standard Vulcan physiology, and appears to be in the proper stage of development," Sorel said.

Emma woke up on the sofa in front of dying coals, snuggled up in a blanket with a book causally lying across her chest. She could not figure out what the noise was that woke her, but then she heard it again: the com-unit.

Yawning, she entered the study to find a call inbound to her. It was Sarek. She smiled.

"Well hello!"

"_Aduna_, how are you feeling?" he asked, pausing to look at her hair. "Did I wake you?"

"It's sticking off my head, isn't it?"

"Indeed, it is," he replied.

"I fell asleep on the sofa again... I was reading. Anyway, how are you?"

"I am well, thank you. I understand our son is well, too."

"Sorel contacted you, didn't he?" she asked with a smile.

"Yes, he did. He sent me a full report on the examination of Skelan's circulatory system. I understand that, although his pulse rate is only 225 beats per minute, both Sorel and T'Pola expect that to improve after birth."

"Yes. I am still trying to convince myself that a pulse that fast is not life-threatening," she replied.

"For a Vulcan, no, it is not."

He looked at her. He could see the improvement her weight gain had on her appearance. Rather than gaunt and tired, her color was a healthy human pink - she looked vibrant.

"It pleases me to look upon you again, my wife. Your absence is, noticeable," he said with the soft, gentle voice that no one else ever heard.

She saw it: he was lonely. She missed him, too, but it was the first time she had seen it in him directly. "Sarek, do you have any idea of when you might be able to return home?"

"At this time, I do not. These people are a stubborn race, and unwilling to concede their position even for the good of all their own," he answered her.

"Most illogical."

"Yes," he paused, not wanting the conversation to end. But she spoke before he could say something.

"Sarek, what time is it there?"

"0345 hours."

"It's late, and you must rest. Thank you for calling, it has been wonderful to hear your voice again. I look forward to your coming home."

"As do I, my wife. Rest well."

"Good night," she said, kissing her fingertips and then touching the screen before it went blank.

A moment of loneliness swept over her and she began to cry. As she sat in the darkness of the study, she heard it loud and clear in her mind: _...Soft Sound...not alone..._

14 February 2296

After a long day, Emma sat on the sofa with Anna and Jenny, drinking tea and enjoying a brisk, cool evening.

"Emma, when is he coming home? He's been gone a long time, at least it seems that way," Jenny asked.

"He has been, and his message last week said the 28th of this month. I think if time gets any slower, it'll go backwards."

Anna smiled at her daughter. "How did the evaluation go this morning?"

"Well, I am twenty-two pounds heavier since December. More importantly, Skelan is two and a half pounds and seventeen point two inches long. He is really growing now. Not too bad for twenty-eight weeks, I'd say," she answered, rubbing her belly gently as the baby moved around inside.

"Is he scooting around again, Emma?" Jenny asked, her curiosity piqued.

"Yeah. Sometimes I like to play a game and guess what is moving across my tummy," she replied with a chuckle. Emma pulled her blouse up and pushed her waistband down a tad. A round protrusion scooted across her belly.

"That looks like a rump to me," Anna said.

Then a clearly defined foot pressed against the skin of her abdomen. On a whim, Emma reached over to it and tickled, and to her delight, little toes curled up and then the foot disappeared altogether as they laughed.

They did not hear the front door open and close. They were too busy talking about the baby. He stood quietly in the study and set his materials down. It was when he stepped out into the hallway onto the wooden floor that she heard him.

At least she thought she did, and she stared toward the hallway, internally praying it was him, but trying not to get her hopes up. Then he stepped around the corner. She stood quietly. He looked at Emma and touched his first two fingers to hers, their bond surging. He shared the feeling of satisfaction he felt upon seeing her again.

"Jenny, _dif-tor heh smusma_," he said, and waited patiently for her reply.

"_Mene sakkat ur-seveh, Shaile_," she answered carefully, pronunciations a little amusing, but essentially correct.

"Anna, it is agreeable to see you once more," he said.

"You as well, Sarek. Jenny, we need to be going. Come along, now," she said quietly. "Welcome home, and good night to you both."

"Good night, Mum."

Once the family had departed, he looked at her carefully, surprised by just how much her body had changed in the eight weeks he'd been gone. He saw her belly twitch, and touched it lightly. It happened again, and then again.

"Hiccoughs?" he asked.

She smiled and nodded. "Yep. He has them several times a day sometimes.

"I shall return momentarily, _k'diwa_," he said.

She went to the kitchen and made a fresh pot of tea. When it was ready, she made a cup to his preferences, and then brought it to the living room, finding him waiting for her on the sofa, the fire pot burning softly.

He had changed into one of the angora sweaters she had purchased for him on Skye - a soft earthen brown that she was convinced accentuated his eye color. His trousers were black, and for the first time, he was barefoot. Emma did not know what it was about his toes, they were just cute, and though he would deem it highly illogical, she decided he needed to know she liked them.

"Tea?"

"Yes, thank you," he answered.

She handed the cup to him and as he drank, he realized she was analyzing his feet.

"Sarek, you have wonderful toes. I just thought you should know that I find them to be aesthetically pleasing, to use a favorite phrase of yours," she smiled.

"Thank you. While I do not understand the value of critical evaluation of my feet beyond their functional capacity, it pleases me that they please you," he said quietly.

As they sat, fingers entwined, the hum of a transporter beam could be heard in the hallway. They turned to see his luggage sitting there.

"One moment, my wife," he said, walking to the bags. He carried them into their bedroom and after a moment, he returned with a small bag in his hand. "I was unfortunately unable to acknowledge a day of importance to you. January the fifth was your 38th birthday. I have brought you this gift," he said, handing her a small box.

"This is not necessary, love - "

"I choose to, Emma. Please open the box."

She carefully opened the box to reveal a pair of earrings and a pendant made of the darkest green emeralds she had ever seen. They were set in a metal that she had never seen before.

"The metal is indigenous only to Izar III. Like mercury, it is liquid at room temperature; however, the artisan jewel crafters lower its temperature with liquid nitrogen. Once in a solid state, it becomes malleable and can be shaped. Once the desired shape is achieved, it is allowed to return to a liquid state, but it retains the design."

"But how do you put it on if it's a liquid?"

"Thusly," he said. He gently pulled it apart, placed it around her neck and allowed the two ends to touch. They resumed the continuous chain that had been in the box.

"The earrings are very similar, _aduna_. Place one over the hole in your earlobe and it will settle itself in place. When you desire its removal, gently pull and it will come off," he continued. Once the earrings were in place, he beckoned her to look in the mirror. "They draw attention to your eyes, _t'hy'la_."

She looked in the mirror, and the emerald seemed to alter their color slightly based on the lighting conditions. This was the most beautiful jewelry she had ever seen. She turned to him and placed her arms around his waist.

"Do they please you?" he asked softly.

"Oh yes, they do, love. Thank you for such a thoughtful gift," she said, kissing him lightly, following it with a tight hug.

As they embraced, he could feel the pain in her back and legs. "May I relieve this discomfort?"

"You can certainly try," she said.

He guided her back to the living room and laid a soft blanket down on the sofa. Gently, he undressed her and helped her to lie on her side, propping her legs upon a pillow. Starting with her neck, he carefully massaged the tense muscles into a relaxed state, and then progressed down her back.

The more he worked, the more his desire for her grew. He also was abundantly aware of the point of her pregnancy being such that physical intimacy, while not completely forbidden, might be uncomfortable for her. So as he massaged her legs, he decided to try something with her that they had not yet done.

He allowed his feelings of excitement and desire flow over their bond, and even though she was reciprocating those feelings and needs to him, her mind was very clear.

/I am not sure it's a good idea. I really don't want to explain that to them in the morning, Sarek. Explaining the bite mark you left on my thigh to Sorel and Daniel in October was embarrassing enough./

/I understand your concerns; however, there are other ways we may enjoy one another this evening. May I teach you something?/

She looked back at him as he gently rubbed her foot. /I am listening./

"Come with me, _t'hy'la_."

Moments later, they were lying together, bodies entwined, seducing one another. His hands traveled across her body, her lips kissed his neck as he positioned himself over her, resting her legs over his thighs.

He placed his hand gently at her psi points, joining their minds together. He began to project memories of their bonding, their first joining, and the many more that followed it. He showed her what he experienced as he would take her body with his. He projected what he felt, the pleasure he received as hers washed over their bond - what he heard in her pleas to him, telling him what she liked and what she didn't...her begging him for release when he would make her wait just that much longer.

As the meld continued, her own physical responses to the mental projections were intensely growing, and her hand found him as he lay propped above her, back home with her, in her arms. As they found resolution together, his release was slow and drawn out, and once complete, he held her close to him.

Sarek awoke to the sunlight filtering into their bed chamber through soft, sheer curtains. He welcomed its warmth upon his skin in the cooler air of the late winter in San Francisco. He heard her voice humming softly in the kitchen as she listened to Terran classical music.

Across their bond, Sarek could sense her happiness and satisfaction. She was calm and collected, full of joy – and he knew it had been a long time coming for her. He rose and dressed to join her.

"Good morning, sweetheart," she said with a smile. "How was your rest?"

"Sufficient, _aduna_. Has Sorel performed your scan this morning?"

"Yes, and things are going very well."

Accepting a mug of hot tea, he joined her at the dining table. "Who is the composer of this music, Emma?"

"This is Johannes Brahms, Sarek. He was a very important composer from Germany in the nineteenth century. His symphonies are of great importance to symphonic literature. This is his first sextet, second movement - _andante con moderato_."

"I shall add it to my listening library. I will study it further."

11 April 2296

The sunset on the bay was calm and beautiful as always, with traditional sailboats followed by modern seafaring vessels passing across the horizon in the distance. Blue and orange streaked across the sky, painting the clouds in a brazen display of natural beauty.

Anna stood in the embassy garden, gently pruning her new roses as they climbed the trestle Sulok had installed for her earlier that afternoon. From the first conversation they'd shared over a fountain closed down for winter, they found friendship and peace in each other's company as they tended to both Terran and Vulcan flora.

As he Sulok approached her, he thought of the friendship they had begun to cultivate, and admired her courage and recovery in the loss of her life's mate. He reflected upon the death of his _k'diwa_ five years earlier, and found striking similarities that he and Anna shared. He decided it was time to speak about the matter. She did not hear him approach and was startled.

"Forgive me, Anna. I did not intend to frighten you," he said softly.

She smiled and looked at him. "As Surak teaches us, there is no offense where none is taken, Sulok. Will you join me?"

He nodded quietly and gently began to thread a stem through the lattice work, providing it much needed support for healthy growth. She watched silently as he performed the task, and thought of what it must have been like for him to lose his wife, and how strong he was for it. She respected that strength, and wondered if it would completely bypass good taste to consider the feelings she sensed stirring in her own heart.

Surely he would not share these same thoughts she had – surely not. He was an older Vulcan male, and could not possibly be remotely interested in contemplating a future with her. She began to feel a wave of guilt for thinking of another male in such a way – and then stopped the thought altogether. Will would not begrudge her another opportunity for peace and happiness, so neither should she.

Sulok gently secured one last stem and then stood back and admired his handiwork. Removing his gloves, he cleaned his hands carefully and then turned to her.

"Anna, I would speak with you. Will you walk with me?" he asked.

She nodded, and fell into stride with him as they strolled through the gardens together. She made a point to maintain an appropriate distance from him, but found herself wanting to be closer, to discover the origination of that wonderful scent he had…

"I understand that Emma has had a good report from _Ohakausu_ Sorel today?"

Anna smiled, recognizing small talk when she heard it, but decided to play along. "Yes, she did. The baby is now almost eight pounds and eighteen inches long. He is growing quickly."

"Indeed. It would appear that he will deliver as a healthy baby. Have the physicians established a date of birth yet?"

"No. They desire for him to remain _in utero_ as long as possible, but she will still deliver early by Vulcan standards. It will be a difficult birth for her, I fear."

"Perhaps, and perhaps not."

They walked further in silence for a moment. He decided it was time to speak about the possibility of 'them'. "Anna, I have realized what would appear to be mutual awareness of one another. Have you?"

She nodded silently, not sure of what to say. Only four months had passed since Will's death, and she found herself conflicted by the formation of this newly developing friendship, and lingering in the memory of the life she'd shared with Will. Rather than overthink the issue, she decided to allow the companionship she found in Sulok to be merely what it was. "I have, Sulok…"

Emma and Sarek stepped out onto their balcony to observe the sunset when she noticed her mother in the garden with Sulok. She touched Sarek's arm and inclined her head towards them.

Sarek watched in silence: an unexpected, but logical pairing. Fascinating. Touching his fingers to hers, Sarek invited his wife to join him inside, leaving them to their privacy in the gardens.

22 May 2296

Emma walked slowly through the apartment, her back sore and ankles swollen. Sorel had requested she meet him in the medical ward, and she obliged him. He may have to wait a while, but she would get there eventually.

As she entered, she smiled weakly at him and T'Pola and lay upon the scanner for the daily evaluation to begin. She lay quietly, pushing thoughts of the pregnancy lasting two more months out of her mind. She was unsure she could accept that circumstance, but resolved to do all that she could, and be the best mother possible for this not-so-tiny boy growing inside her body.

"Emma, although an exact time of delivery is not possible in your situation, I predict with 94.6% certainty that you will give birth no later than the sixth day of June. Skelan currently shows acceptable levels of development in all body systems. His cardiac function is nearing its normal pulse rate, and as of this scan, he weighs thirteen point two pounds, and measures twenty-one inches in length," Sorel said matter-of-factly.

T'Pola spoke. "As his current weight and length exceed the general norms for the human neonate, I would not recommend carrying the infant beyond the sixth of June. If you have not begun labor independently, we will induce at that time."

"Ok. I will look forward to that," she paused as the eyebrows rose in unison. "Jesting… just making a small joke," Emma said quietly as she sat up.

"I do not understand this form of jest, Emma," T'Pola responded.

As she walked out and headed toward her office, Emma turned and smiled. "To be honest, if I don't laugh right now, I'll cry."

Since the signing of the Verellian accord, many social changes were taking place in the system: a time of peace not seen in forty years had begun. Communities on both worlds were being rebuilt and working governments were established once more. Civilian defense groups replaced the roving militias, and normalcy was returning to daily life.

Planets throughout the Federation united together to support the formation of peaceful coexistence between Verellian III and IV. The Betazed Diplomatic Delegation sent dozens of counselors to help the people begin to process through the violence and near genocide each planet had endured. Tellar Prime designated its top engineers to work with the Vulcans in developing and initiating viable planetary infrastructures. The Andorians trained the defense volunteers – all that remained was for it to continue. The Izarian Delegation sent their best agricultural engineers to identify and establish the most productive varieties of crops for food and industry.

Sarek estimated one hundred years would be necessary to observe and assess the actual changes that would result from these efforts, and it was satisfying to him that the process was progressing as such. As his obligations were to monitor the progress and cooperation between the planetary leaders, Sarek sat in the shuttlecraft as it entered the system, watching Verellian III grow larger on the screen as the craft made its final approach and entered the atmosphere.

He thought about the conversation he and Emma had as he prepared to leave for Verellian III…

"_Now? You can't be serious, Sarek," she said with frustration. _

_He'd been gone a long time since their return from Scotland at the New Year. The thought of his not being there during a time when she needed him so much was unappealing at best. _

"_I need you here with me right now," she said softly, in a last-ditch effort to convince him, even though she knew it would not work._

"_Emma, I must evaluate the progress of communication and cooperation between Fol'vin and Veled. Fol'vin's decision to acquiesce to the treaty was quite unexpected. I must ensure that he was and still is willing to honor his commitment to peace," he replied. _

_He understood why she was displeased; however, he would meet his diplomatic obligations. "It is my preference to be with you through these final weeks. Warranting any emergent situations, I shall endeavor to return before Skelan is born."_

_She nodded and sat quietly, not knowing what else to say, particularly since once he made up his mind, it was not going to be changed unless the parameters of the engagement did._

_He touched his fingers to hers. "I will return to you at the earliest possible time, my wife."_

As he began continued negotiations with the Ambassadors of Verellian III and IV, Sarek spoke with them regarding his concerns for the continued peace between their worlds.

"I am concerned by the reports of pirating in the outer regions of your system, Ambassadors. Who are the individuals responsible for these actions?"

Fol'vin spoke first. "They are Orion. We negotiated with them decades past for arms as the conflict between our worlds was in its infancy. They have always been a part of these actions in one way or another. However, when I agreed to the peace accord last year, I demanded a cessation of our relationship with them. They have been less then accommodating to our withdrawal from them."

Veled looked at his counterpart as anger flashed in his eyes, but he remained quiet.

"How long ago did you attempt to sever this relationship with the Orions, Fol'vin?" Sarek asked, almost unbelieving that anyone would enter into any type of relationship with them and expect to walk away unscathed. Most illogical.

"Immediately upon return to my home world after meeting with you on Earth, Sarek."

"I see. This should have been brought to my attention as we completed the initial negotiations.

Have there been any hostilities between the Orions and your soldiers since that time?"

"Only mild activity; however, the Orions have quickly learned that my militia is not to be trifled with," Fol'vin answered, a taste of his former arrogance flavoring the conversation.

Unable to hold his tongue any further, Veled spoke. "How long did you think you could function without their retaliation, Fol'vin? Orions are known for their unmerciful and cruel manner in dealing with an enemy. You brought the wolves into the fold. Unbelievable."

Sarek intervened. "Be that as it may, we must remain focused upon the future of cooperation between your worlds. One issue of that cooperation is now dealing with the mutual threat that lies in the Orions. Continue to monitor their activities. I require copies of all surveillance records you have on the matter."

After the meeting between Veled, Fol'vin, and the Vulcan diplomatic delegation, they retired to their quarters to prepare for the next day's meetings. Sarek sat quietly as he read the message from Sorel detailing Emma's condition and needs.

"Soran?"

"Yes, sir?"

"I calculate the odds of completing negotiations within seven days to be 81.4%. Do you concur?" he asked.

"Affirmative," Soran replied, understanding the reasoning for his question.

"Understood. I require a secure connection to the embassy in my quarters immediately," he instructed as he strode out of their meeting room to his private chamber. The connection was active as he walked in the door. Sulok sat waiting for him.

"_Shaile_," the elder answered from inside Sarek's home.

"Sulok – I will speak with my wife."

"Both she and her mother have stepped outside for a walk, Ambassador. I am uncertain of their precise location at this time. If you prefer, I will have her located and brought to a terminal," he offered.

"Not necessary. How do you observe her condition this evening, Sulok?"

"Lady Emma is quite resilient – one moment, they have returned," he said gently as the door opened with their conversation continuing from the hallway. A moment later, Emma appeared.

"Hello, husband. What do you require?"

Seeing her and hearing her voice was oddly soothing at that moment. He allowed himself to relax internally before speaking again.

"_Aduna_. Are you well this evening?"

"As well as I can be. Sarek, Skelan is getting big… _really_ big. Sorel and T'Pola spoke with me about the potential for a caesarean delivery if Skelan does not come along on his own terms before the sixth of June."

"Yes, I received a communiqué from Sorel earlier. Emma, it is likely that I will not be able to return for the birth of our son."

"I know, Sarek. I also know that this visit to the Verellian system is vital to the continued stability post-treaty. I thought it out, and I have Mum and Jenny. Aunt Murron will be here as well. I would certainly rather you are here, but I understand if it's not possible. I knew what I was bonding into, well, mostly," she replied with a smile.

He saw through the façade of her confidence, knowing she was concerned.

"Besides, I know you would like to be here for his arrival if you can. I would speak with you on another matter, if you have a moment."

He looked at her green eyes and replied. "Of course."

"Sulok and Mum are getting along famously. In fact, they availed themselves of the opportunity to take a walk," she said with a smile. "They do so every evening now. They also share each meal, and spend the majority of each day together."

"Their personalities are highly compatible. None should be alone when a suitable bond-mate exists," he replied.

"Indeed, I am thankful for the change it has brought in Mum. She is more alive than I have seen her in a long time."

"Emma, has she spoken of any plans as of yet?" Sarek asked.

"No, and I am not wanting to invade her privacy, but at the same time, my curiosity is piqued," she replied with a sigh.

Sarek looked at her image on the screen and took a long, slow breath. As he did so, he thought of how her entrance into his life had changed him. He then thought of her safety. "Emma, I would ask you to maintain heightened vigilance in these days. Be aware of your physical needs, of your surroundings, and report anything that appears out of order in any way to Savel only. I shall return to you as soon as possible, _aduna_."

"Understood. Be safe, _adun_."

29 May 2296

Emma walked through the halls of the embassy in the darkest hours of the morning. She had been unable to sleep and decided to walk out the discomfort she was feeling. The cold rain and wind prohibited her walking the gardens as had become her habit, so she decided to look upon them from the warmth of the embassy kitchen instead.

After brewing a cup of tea, she walked quietly into the darkened dining hall and sat at her favorite table. She took a sip of her drink and was setting the mug on the table when something in the gardens by the fountain caught the farthest periphery of her vision.

She froze still, and then very carefully moved her body in a swift motion to the darkness beside the windows. There would certainly be no one outside in the weather as it was, regardless of the time. With extraordinary caution, she peered carefully around the window and observed a most unusual sight: a Vulcan crouched in the shrubbery, soaking wet with rain, manipulating an electronic device.

She watched the individual move from one position to another in the bushes and then a small but bright beacon of light activated, and then stopped. The dark figure looked around warily, and then continued to manipulate the device further.

Emma moved farther forward to attempt a clear look at who the individual was, and as she did bumped the chair next to her. The noise startled the late night visitor who whirled around, vision focused upon the curtain that was settling still after being moved.

Emma quickly ran to her office and shut her door, locking it quietly. She moved in the darkness through the room to the studio adjacent to it, and pulled her communicator out of her pocket as she carefully maneuvered underneath the piano in the back. She settled down quietly underneath as she entered the emergency code Savel had assigned to her when she began her employment the previous year.

Designed to act as a silent alarm, it required her to say nothing as he and his security contingent would locate her and attend to her needs. She activated the code, knowing it would bring the entire Vulcan security force out of slumber, and for a split second, she hoped she had not just imagined the incident. She began to regret the decision until she heard her main office door being manipulated.

As the piano was adjacent to the outer hallway, she could barely hear mumblings of frustration by the individual attempting entry, followed by momentary silence, and then quick footsteps away from the door. She held her breath as panic sent her pulse rate escalating.

Savel bolted upright in his bed when the alarm system activated with Emma's personal emergency code. Without turning on his lights, Savel quickly dressed and spoke to his bond-mate.

"T'Pola, you will remain here with the children. Do not leave our quarters until I have authorized it," he whispered softly.

"Understood, _adun_," she replied.

He quietly walked out of their bedroom to find Sonek and T'Naara standing together in the living room, unsure of what was happening.

"You will attend to your mother in our chamber. Remain there until I instruct you further," he instructed Sonek sharply.

"_Ha, Osa-mekh_," Sonek replied as he quickly herded his sister into the room with their mother.

Once convinced of their security, he activated the code that would place his security team on alert to meet him, and then contacted Sorel.

"_Ohakausu_, _T'Sai_ Emma has activated her emergency security code. Remain on standby alert for my signal to attend to her once the embassy is secured."

"Acknowledged," Sorel replied.

Emma remained hidden under the piano, listening for any indication that the 'visitor' had returned, but there was none. Even so, she waited for any indication that Savel received her distress signal, and then it came. His coded response told her only that he was _en route_ to her and to remain still and silent.

She carefully pressed her ear against the wall and heard the softest of footsteps padding down the hall, accompanied by a female Vulcan voice acknowledging the area was cleared and secure. A moment later, the lights came on in the facility and the security lock on her office door deactivated.

"She is in the studio," the female voice said.

Emma backed herself further into the corner under the piano as she watched as three pair of legs clad in black stealth fatigues and boots entered the room and surveyed it. One pair walked toward the piano and stopped. She heard the tricorder scan stop its cycle, and then saw Savel's face appear as he peered beneath the instrument.

As he looked under the piano, he saw her wedged into the back corner of the room, her eyes filled with fear and confusion, and tears on the verge of spilling over. He stood upright and issued orders to the security squad, who departed the room immediately.

"_Osavensu_, it is safe to come out now. Do you require assistance?" he asked delicately, not wishing to startle her further.

"No, thank you. Are you sure it's safe? Someone came after me and tried to get into my office."

"I am certain. We will investigate this incident thoroughly," he replied, offering her a hand as she crawled out from under the piano and stood.

At that moment, Sorel and Sulok entered the office. Sorel began to attend to her as Sulok spoke with Savel.

"What has taken place, Savel? Are the premises compromised?" the elder Vulcan asked, his eyes settling on Emma

"_T'Sai,_ detail everything that you witnessed," Savel began gently.

As she explained what happened during the break-in, Emma struggled to maintain self control. Even though the rational part of her mind was certain they would understand her anxiety, the emotional side of her was too proud to allow them to see her weakness.

"Explain why you were walking the corridors at that time," Savel said.

"Well, I have not been feeling well, and I usually walk in the gardens when I am experiencing such discomfort. The baby has been very active, and it's painful for me at times."

A light rapping on the door snapped her attention toward the noise. Anna walked into the security office carrying a tray, cups, and a fresh pot of _theris-masu_. " Please forgive the interruption, but I thought it being so late, tea might help," she offered.

Savel nodded at her and then back to Emma and Anna handed them each a cup of tea.

"Thank you, Mum," she said as she took a drink. "The rain and wind were too much, so I decided to walk in the open access areas. I didn't wish to disturb any of the families, and I know they would have heard me in the hallway," she answered.

He nodded. "Yes, we would have. Continue."

"I went to the kitchen for tea, and then to my favorite table. I had taken a sip when movement caught my peripheral vision. I hid in the corner of the window behind the drapery and that is when I saw the intruder."

Savel looked at her pointedly. "How many were there?"

"I saw just the one."

"Was the intruder male or female?" he asked.

"Definitely looked like a Vulcan male – too broad-shouldered to be female."

The female security officer entered the room and addressed Savel. "_Oshartanilau-talsu_, we have completed security scans of the grounds and are currently reviewing the files from the security cameras. No trace evidence has been found outside; however, we have completed collecting of physical evidence inside the embassy."

"Findings?" Savel asked.

"Insufficient evidence to provide a conclusive description at this time," she replied respectfully.

"Continue examination of trace evidence and report once complete."

Quietly she bowed and left the room.

As Emma continued detailing her account the morning's events, Anna looked out the window quietly, wondering if the safety of the gardens was no more. She decided to accept Emma's words the morning they'd arrived from Skye…

"…_they are our security force, and a large part of why I sleep soundly every night…"_

She only hoped that she could find peace enough to rest as Emma did.

Soran read the report Savel submitted on encrypted priority frequency and then handed the report to Sarek.

"Sir, there was a breach of security at the embassy last night."

Sarek looked at him sharply and immediately read the report Savel submitted.

…_0345 hours… footprints found in garden… perpetrator had Vulcan appearance… unidentified at this time… attempted forced entry to cultural liaison's office… no casualties or injuries…_

Sarek completed the report and set the PADD on his desk. He quickly reviewed the materials they had completed in the previous day's mediation and determined they were at a suitable point to pause in the process.

"We will depart for Earth this evening, Soran."

4 June 2296

Once secured in orbit around Earth, the Vulcan diplomatic delegation transported directly to the embassy grounds. Sarek walked into the main hallway and entered his office. He filtered through his communications as a knock rapped on his door sharply. He looked up to see Murron and Ken McLeod.

"Welcome to the Vulcan embassy. I trust your journey was safe?" he asked of them as they came in.

"Yes, it was. We understand you also just arrived," Ken answered. "We don't wish to disturb you, merely to say hello."

"I will attend to business that requires my attention at this time; however, we will share end meal this evening at 1800 hours."

After they departed, Sarek summoned Soran to his office. "I will speak with Security Provider Savel immediately."

"Understood, sir."

A moment later, Savel entered the office and waited. "What information has been found in the investigation of the intruder?"

"_Shaile_, what is certain is that there was one individual, a male with Vulcan appearance. He was able to move freely throughout the gardens without disturbing the alarms, and when his presence was noticed by _T'Sai _Emma, he pursued her into the building. She retreated to her office, hid under the piano, and requested security assistance," he said.

"I understand that she followed embassy emergency protocols?"

"Yes. Our response time to her was ninety-seven seconds. In that time, the intruder tried to gain entry to her office in an attempt to bypass the security lock on her door. He failed. We were able to secure the embassy and make contact with her. She was recovered from hiding physically unharmed, and provided her account to us."

"What are the results of examination of the trace evidence recovered?" Sarek asked.

"The only DNA recovered from any area of the embassy involved in the intrusion reveals individuals who are authorized to be on the grounds: both Human and Vulcan. There is no indication of involvement from any other species. Additionally, all evidence shows that only one perpetrator was inside the building during the attempt to gain entry to _T'Sai_ Emma's office door."

End meal found the small family back together again for the first time since Will's death in December, and this time, there was laughter and talking. The only change was the addition of Sulok to the table. Murron watched her sister interact with the elder Vulcan, and then realized what was going on. It was as if she were watching Emma and Sarek on the dock in August all over again.

Murron looked directly at Anna and waited until she met her eyes. When she did, she saw a joy and peace that had been gone from her little sister for a great while. As Jenny and Sarek presented the meal to the family, Murron watched Sulok prepared a plate for Anna before he prepared his very own. Their fingers touched, Anna blushed slightly, and he bowed his head to her gently.

Sarek had prepared Emma's plate for her, but it went mostly untouched. She wanted to eat, but did not feel well, and chose to move it around the dinnerware instead. Sarek observed this as he sensed an intense discomfort building across their bond. He looked at her directly, but said nothing.

/Emma?/

/Yes, love?/

/Are thee well? You are not eating; however, you are rearranging your food on the plate. Do you require medical assistance?/

/Not yet,/ she replied with a glance at him.

/So it is time?/

/Soon, Sarek. Very soon./

After dinner was over and company was departed to their quarters, Sarek found Emma lying on the sofa, engaged in deep breathing exercises that T'Pola had been instructing her to partake in as her body would prepare to give birth. He contacted Sorel who joined them to monitor her progress.

"Emma, it is time to move to the medical center. We shall transport you to the unit. Lie completely still," he instructed as he programmed in coordinates.

Sarek watched them disappear and then notified the family that Emma's labor had begun. As he walked to the medical unit, he thought of the other time he awaited the labor Amanda had taken upon herself for him. He remembered her pain and suffering, and knew that this experience would take its toll upon Emma as well.

Entering the unit, he found a controlled and coordinated flurry of activity around her… monitors providing readouts of her condition, Skelan's heart beating at a vigorous 265 beats per minute, trending the increasing strength and frequency of her contractions. Through all of this, the women of the family were with her, coaching her through each breath, pacing her management of pain, encouraging her.

As he watched them, it occurred to him this was another of the mercy rituals not unlike those performed for the family upon Will's death – an extension of all that each of them had to offer in solace and comfort, knowing that it would be returned to them tenfold.

A soft beeping indicated to Sorel that her body was ready, and he began to guide her through each contraction, making the most effort for each they could. Sarek approached her, taking his place with her in the birth of their son. Three hours passed, and then it was over. Great effort to deliver the boy had finally paid off, with a crown of thick black hair presenting, followed by a right shoulder, the left, and the rest of him.

As Sorel deftly handled the newborn, T'Pola assisted in cleaning him as they waited for any sound. Their patience was rewarded by a hefty and angry cry from the boy, his protests accompanied by vigorous movement.

It was that moment when she looked at her son that Emma had the profound realization of what had been placed in her arms, and as he settled down and opened his eyes to look at her: green gazed upon green as tiny eyebrows rose and fell, and then much as she had done in the moments after her birth - Skelan smiled at his mother.

"Welcome home, my love," she said, smiling back at him. "It's good to finally meet you, _itsk-sakan t'nash-veh_."

Any fear or worry she had before he came was gone, replaced with affection and joy for the life that lay in her arms. Though she was in great discomfort after the experience, it didn't matter at the moment. All that mattered were those emerald green eyes watching her… that tiny hawk-nose, her father's chin and mother's cheeks. The second opportunity to nurture and love a child was a treasure she would cling to for the rest of her life.

For six hours, eleven minutes, and thirty-one seconds, Sarek sat in the recovery area and watched her sleep. Her efforts had been quite admirable. She'd delivered a fourteen point six pound infant, and it had taken a tremendous toll on her. After T'Pola had attended to the injuries Emma sustained during the birth, she placed Emma into a sleeping state and set her to rest. He thought about what T'Pola said…

_Sarek, she will require a minimum of twelve weeks to recover from the physical trauma of this delivery. Her effort in this birth was satisfactory. I had not thought a human capable of pain mediation, but she accomplished it with great skill. She is an honorable wife._

He thought on those words… honorable wife. An irrational pride began to grow inside of him as he thought of her efforts. He turned to see Sorel enter the room, carrying the infant in his arms.

"Your son, Sarek," he said, handing Skelan to his father.

"What of his condition?" he asked, looking at the sleeping baby.

"While he is premature compared to Vulcan standards, he is healthy and strong, not unlike Spock when he was born. His pulse has regulated to a stable level, and like you, his blood type is T-negative. Human factors are present, but can be filtered out as required with no difficulty.

"He presents no matters of physical concern. All instinctive behavioral reflexes are normal, and I have completed mapping his genome. At this time, neither Daniel nor I see any cause for concern in his early development.

Sarek looked at his son quietly, and then spoke. "Sorel, your service has brought great honor to me and my family. I offer my thanks for such kindness."

"I find that as illogical as it may seem, there are occasions when the needs of the few outweigh the needs of the many. The honor of service was a burden I willingly accepted, Sarek."

"Indeed, my old friend. When will you return to Nisus?"

"I shall not, Sarek. T'Kar and I have decided to relocate to Vulcan. I find my logic flawed if I remain on Nisus and do not partake in the development of my grandchildren."

"Understood. Where will you re-establish residency and practice?" Sarek asked.

"Shi'khar. The Vulcan Science Academy has accepted my application there as an instructor and healer. It will be our honor to care for your family once again, should you return to the home world."

"I thank you. When will you depart?"

"In five days, Sarek. I will take my leave of you now. I must meditate."

Sarek nodded silently as he watched his friend depart the medical wing. A tiny squeak came from the bundle in his arms. He looked into the green eyes observing him and recognized his own countenance.

"Greetings, _sa-fu_," he said quietly, looking to his wife as she stirred awake.

"_Aduna_, our son," he said, handing her the infant when she reached out for the baby.

"Hello, Skelan," she said with a tired smile. "Sarek, is he well?"

"Yes, Emma. How are you?"

"I am fine, love. I am glad that is over, though. I don't know what I would have done without the pain meditation. It was almost more than I could bear."

Sarek regarded her tenderly. "Emma, you performed admirably. I thank you for the gift of my son."

"You are welcome, _T'hy'la_."

She held their infant up to look at him. "Skelan, you were worth every moment, sweet boy."


	9. And It Came to Pass

New: Life After Death, Chapter Nine

By: T'Ashalik

Sa/f; Spock/f

PG

Sarek sat in his office at the embassy. The birth of his third son filled him with satisfaction. Skelan – so much of him represented his Vulcan paternity… tiny ears with delicate points, sharply arched eyebrows, the strong nose. He made a note to send notification of the birth to Dunvegan, to Vulcan, and to Spock. A soft knock interrupted his thoughts. He glanced up to see Murron. "Murron, enter," he said, inviting her to sit.

"I thank you, but I only stopped to bring you this." She handed him a small, flat box. "It's been a long evening, and we will retire soon."

He looked at it, then opened it carefully. Inside was a picture frame surrounding a photograph of Emma in the moments after Skelan's birth. She was exhausted, but smiling at the small infant who smiled back at her.

"I took a similar photo of Emma moments after Anna gave birth to her. They are strongly connected, I think. Congratulations, _Osamekh_," she said, hoping she remembered Jenny's pronunciation.

"This is most kind. I thank you." He paused, remembering the photo she referenced. "How long will you both remain with us?" It had been a satisfying experience to have the family surrounding them during the time leading to the birth of his son.

"Actually, Daniel has been selected to assist in training new medical staff for the Academy, so we will be heading back to Skye in the morning to help with little William." She paused, smiling. "Our grandson has us all very busy."

"I trust he is in good health?"

"Yes," she smiled, "and growing so quickly. It is a pleasure to have babies in our family again. Sarek, it has brought us distinct satisfaction to graft you into our clan – to see Emma blossom once again to the life that she has worked so hard to have. I want to thank you personally for seeing and hearing her for who she truly is, and accepting her as only that, requiring nothing more of her."

"I do not understand," he said quietly. Why would he not accept as she was? She was satisfactory in every way.

Murron smiled gently at him. "Emma is the most unusual individual I have ever known. She is dutiful, honest, merciful, and gentle – and yet, men of her own kind could not give her the acceptance that you do. We feared for her emotional health after Bruce died, because he knew her and loved her as she was…a priceless treasure to him. Other men never saw that value… and the social displacement they cast her into was damning."

Memory of that night they bonded filled his mind briefly. _…You are a pearl beyond price, Sarek..._ He observed her as she struggled to hold her tears back. She accepted the tissue he offered her. "Thank you," she dabbed her eyes dry. "Pardon this please, I am very tired. I don't mean to embarrass you."

"Surak taught us that display of emotion is acceptable provided the cause is sufficient. You have brought no offense to me this evening." The women of Emma's family were so resilient that it was unsettling to see them in a moment of emotional weakness.

She smiled, grateful for his courtesy. "Sarek, I was there at the moment of her birth – Emma has been a delight to us all of her life. I am grateful for all you have provided her, the opportunity to grow into the person she was intended to be. Will and Anna gave her everything they had to give – they did the best they could for her with the skills and experience they had.

"This past year has been a tempering flame, and you have been largely responsible for supporting her renewed strength. You have brought honor and respect to our family. We are proud to call you our nephew."

"Most kind." He chose to risk a moment of vulnerability. "Emma has brought an element of completion to my life that I lost when Amanda died. I find it satisfying to consider this opportunity that she, who is my wife, has provided me."

Murron looked into his eyes… _'She who is my wife'…_ _Such an interesting way to describe Emma_, she thought. Impenetrable, controlled emotion looked back. _'So Vulcan'_, she thought. Nodding politely, she turned, leaving him to his thoughts.

US Intrepid II

Spock sat quietly in the observation lounge, indulging in a rare moment of personal reading. He held the ancient book in his hands, a gift from his mother on the occasion of his fifteenth birthday: "Self-Reliance" by Ralph Waldo Emerson. He closed his eyes as he remembered that moment alone with her, his father off-world on assignment.

"Spock'am_, I have something for you," she said, smiling at him. "My grandfather gave this to me when I was fifteen, and I want you to have it, _tahluk Sa-fu t'Nash-veh_." _

_She smiled as her precious son fidgeted slightly in his chair._

"A'maih_, this is most gracious of you, but why do you insist on celebrating the day of my birth? I made no constructive effort or contribution, I simply arrived. It was your effort that brought me," he said softly, still not understanding his mother's needs to go against tradition, _particularly_ when his father was not home._

_She laughed softly. "Spock, I surely made the effort, that is for certain; but you are a priceless treasure given me by your father, and therefore I gladly honor you. Besides, this is part of the 'Terran Mother Privilege' we've talked about before. Humans celebrate birthdays, and I do not intend to stop that any time soon, so you may as well accept it as an axiom."_

_He looked into her blue eyes, privately grateful for her acceptance of him, and nodded respectfully._

"_Now," she said teasingly, "are you just going to sit there holding it or will you open it?"_

Taking a deep breath, he returned to the place he marked in a previous moment of spare time, and began to read…

"_Ne te quaesiveris extra_." He translated the ancient Latin in his mind: 'Do not seek outside yourself'. How many times had his mother encouraged him with this wisdom, and he not fully understood the truth of it? He continued reading a section his mother had underlined many years prior.…

…_**To believe your own thought, to believe that what is true for you in your private heart is true for all me, — that is genius**__…__**There is a time in every man's education when he arrives at the conviction that envy is ignorance**_… _**The power which resides in him is new in nature, and none but he knows what that is which he can do, nor does he know until he has tried…**__**Trust thyself: every heart vibrates to that iron string…**__**accept the place the divine providence has found for you, the society of your contemporaries, the connection of events…great men have always done so, and confided themselves childlike to the genius of their age, betraying their perception that the absolutely trustworthy was seated at their heart, working through their hands, predominating in all their being…**_

Ensign Davies stood quietly in the entrance to the observation deck, watching her captain in a very rare moment of peace and quiet. He was an excellent leader, setting forth seemingly ridiculous expectations, broad patience, and a steadfast, unwavering faith in his crew that they would certainly accomplish all he set forth for them.

She had heard so many different things about him before she was assigned at graduation that she was unsure of what to expect, so she chose not to set any expectations and simply allow the experience to be what it was. He had been the best leader she could have learned from. She hoped that she would have the same philosophy and unyielding confidence when she commanded a crew of her own.

She hated to be the one to interrupt this elusive moment for him, but stepped forward to deliver the PADD that contained a private, encoded message from the Vulcan Embassy on Earth. "Excuse me, Captain," she hesitated, waiting for him to acknowledge her further.

"Ensign?" he asked, marking the place in his book and closing it gently, placing it on the table.

"Forgive the intrusion, sir. You have received a priority message from Earth," she said quietly as she presented the PADD to him.

"You have committed no intrusion, Ensign. You may return to your duties." He took the PADD from her.

"Aye, sir," she replied, walking away.

As he activated the encryption software, he made a mental note to evaluate the promotion schedule. She had performed admirably in the past two years, and was due the additional responsibility and privilege that should accompany those efforts.

The PADD chimed softly when the message was ready. He pushed play, and was pleased to see his father's stoic face, lined with nearly imperceptible exhaustion. Anyone else would not have seen it.

_Greetings, _Sa-Fu_. I wish to inform you that at 2327 hours, Emma gave birth to our son. Both are in excellent condition. I have included images for you. The formal naming ceremony has been scheduled for six weeks from today. I understand that your duties will likely preclude the possibility of attendance however we shall be honored should the opportunity for your presence arise, my son._

Spock viewed the attached images of the third son of Sarek. So Vulcan in appearance, yet the gift of his maternity was clear and unavoidable. His chin and its gentle dimple, softly rising cheeks that replaced the sharp definition of the Vulcan face, the black fuzz of hair that betrayed the slight red tinge, and his eyes: a deep, emerald green. The color did not exist naturally in the Vulcan genome, and would offer a truly unique attribute.

Emma was a devoted wife…such life given his father, selfless contribution, and willingness to see Sarek's life continue with renewed strength. He thought of the conversation he had with his father at the end of his visit the previous October, and the wisdom of his parents as he sought the answers to his own life, and possibilities in the future.

"…_consider that which surrounds you…consider your _life_ carefully and you will realize her identity, _Spock'am_. You alone must discover her for yourself…"_

Spock stood and walked to his quarters. Passing quietly through the halls, those under his command stepped quietly to the side, acknowledging him respectfully. Upon entering his quarters, he activated the screen and entered his personal communications clearance code, and then entered hers. He waited with carefully masked patience and the call chimed repeatedly. Just as he was reaching to disconnect the call, it was answered, and they observed each other quietly.

"_Dif-tor heh smusma_, Captain Spock," she said respectfully.

"_Mene sakkhat ur-Seveh_, _T'Sai_."

Her curiosity stirred, wondering what would provoke him to initiate a real-time communication - the expense alone was astronomical. There must be a concern of great urgency for him to initiate such communication.

"The Intrepid II will arrive in standard orbit in four hours, seven minutes. I will speak with thee at that time."

She nodded. "Understood."

He discontinued the call and began to meditate upon his decision. His parents had been correct – she was there all along. How had he not realized it until now? His fingers steepled, he sank into a meditative trance, considering the life that awaited him.

22 June 2293

Sarek awakened at 0530 to find Emma out of bed. He could hear her speaking softly in the living room.

Walking down the hallway, he peered around the corner to see her lying on the sofa with Skelan in her arms. The light of the firepot cast a warm glow upon them. She was talking to him softly as he nursed, his tiny hand grasping her thumb and moving it enthusiastically.

She wore Sarek's robes regularly in the very early mornings when their son cried with hunger. Sarek observed as the thumb-waving began to slow, and then stopped as the green eyes fluttered closed. He walked softly to her, pleased to see her delight at the child they had created.

"_Ha'tha ti'lu, Aduna_," he said, gently stroking her cheek with the back of his fingers.

He reached for Skelan and cuddled him against his chest, wrapping his infant son in his robes with him. Once secure, he sat in his favorite chair next to the firepot and regarded her in the darkness, the light flickering gently.

"I have a small problem," she smiled at him and sat up, wincing as she settled down.

"Are you still experiencing discomfort, Emma? T'Pola must be notified if you aren't healing. Sorel explained the extent of the injuries you sustained during the birth," he stated, his concern growing.

"Actually, I am healing; it is simply going to hurt for a while. I will visit T'Pola if you wish it."

"A visit will ensure that your progress is meeting with expectations," he answered, knowing that requiring her to do anything would produce less than desirable results. He had learned through the experiences of her father's death, and the difficulties she experienced during the pregnancy that she would comply with reason… it simply had to be her idea.

She smiled at him, hearing the tacit instructions, and knowing that he would not relent, decided he was right. "You are right, _Adun_. I will go this morning."

"What of the problem you described?" he asked, as he adjusted Skelan's position inside the robe, bringing his head into proper alignment, resting the infant against his neck. He was rewarded with a quiet squeak and a sigh as the little boy fell back into sleep.

"Well, as much as I relish in the moments I wrap myself in your previous day's robes, I need to find an alternative for moving throughout the embassy. Lessons and work will resume today, and I certainly cannot wear yours. I also cannot nurse him openly in them, either," she answered.

He nodded in agreement. He also indulged in the satisfaction of knowing that two visitors would arrive in moments with the precise solution she needed. "I am confident the solution will present itself," he said elusively.

Emma looked at him with curiosity, wondering what he was on about, but decided to leave it alone. They sat talking together quietly until the door chime rang.

"I shall answer it, _k'Diwa_," he said, cradling the baby gently against him.

T'Pola and T'Lyra stood outside the door, with robes in their arms. They greeted him as he answered, his infant son cradled in his neck. T'Lyra thought the boy fortunate with such a father. They entered the home and found her on the sofa, smiling at them.

"Good morning to you both," she said. "Will you take tea?"

"Emma, you will come with us," T'Pola instructed quietly.

As the three women walked into the bedroom, Sarek was grateful for the traditions of kindness, mercy, and inclusion that these women of different species shared with her.

Entering their bedchamber, Emma turned to them. "What is this about, then?"

"Emma, we will confer upon you a traditional gift and maternal instruction to be given you, were the ambassador's mother still alive." She paused long enough to ensure the measurements were correct before securing the hem, and then continued. "As she is not, we shall perform this instruction in her stead. My mother instructed me upon the birth of my son, and hers before. Would you grant me this opportunity to instruct you now?"

Emma nodded silently, understanding they were there to care for her as if she were one of them – and then she realized they saw her as just that, one of theirs. Sarek sensed the feeling of acceptance and supported her across their bond.

"Remove his robe," T'Lyra requested.

Feeling a bit embarrassed, Emma did as instructed, standing naked in front of them. T'Pola spoke as she draped a lovely black robe around her shoulders. Sensing her discomfort, she explained the purpose of their visit.

/They claim you, _Aduna_./

"Skelan requires attention and care throughout the day, "T'Pola began, instructing her to the care of her child, "and you will provide for his needs accordingly. These maternal robes, the _pelal t'Ko-mekh_, are designed to enable that provision regardless of the environment you find yourself in," she said knowingly, demonstrating how to secure the robe at her hips.

"They are unique in design in our culture, only worn by the mother of an _uzh-kesh'tu_, and only until that infant is able to walk independently," T'Lyra added, masking her grief for the children she could never give to Soran.

Through their bond, Soran comforted her. /_K'diwa_, you alone are sufficient for me. My survival and satisfaction rests solely upon the mercy and generosity you grant me each day. I choose thee, _Aduna_./

"After you secure the lower clasps, bring this fabric upward to the opposite shoulder, securing it here," she said, clipping it in place. "This is where you will swaddle the child as you perform your duties. He will be protected from the elements, and from bumping into any object, as he will be held close to your body. The bodice of this design is such that you will receive the physical support and relief necessary without requiring a supporting undergarment," T'Pola said.

"The inner fold provides access to the breast for nursing the child, while the outer fold provides the modesty required," she continued as she gently lifted Emma's right breast and placed it into the fabric. She then repeated he procedure for the left.

"For your comfort and flexibility, the garment is designed to provide such support ambidextrously," T'Lyra added. "Sovik tailored these robes to your previous measurements. He will be available to alter them in any way needed.

"As this is now your primary responsibility, it is of utmost importance that you allow Sarek to fulfill his primary role: protection of his family. You will therefore maintain control of the child at all times outside of the embassy."

The three women returned to the living room to find Sarek in quiet conversation with Soran. The two men turned their attention to them as they entered the room. She met his eyes with satisfaction, and walked to him. "I will take him now, _Adun_."

"As you wish, _Aduna_," Sarek replied, submitting to her request, handing Skelan to her.

T'Lyra and T'Pola then guided her as she placed the infant in his safe sleeping place with her.

"_T'Sai_," T'Lyra began, "you will notify me of your needs at all times. Service to the House of Sarek is my honor."

She regarded the women tenderly. "Your service honors me… I - I have no words."


End file.
